Anthropos
by copperdream
Summary: Subject: A human named Ribbon. Mental structure: In the midst of an identity crisis, believing all his life he was a machine life form. Status: Seeking revenge on female android Unit 2B.
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

Pascal has sent me to the machine life form who wears lipstick.

Of all machines.

I stand next to her while she fawns at her own reflection in a piece of glass.

"Margot, ma'am." I resist the urge to pour something on her head. "Pascal is wondering—"

"Oh, Pascal?" The machine life form powders her face with—something. Some kind of dust or chalk she has found. "Speak to me only when it is about Jean-Paul."

The only machine life form I'd rather not talk to than this one is Jean-Paul. I grimace. "Pascal's asking if you'd be interested in teaching some of the young, female machines about looking their best." It is, apparently, a custom from the old world Pascal is curious about.

"Why would I do such a thing?" Margot sets the mirror down at her side. "And up my own competition? Never."

"Right." I back away.

I don't understand these things.

More and more, as the days go by, I understand less and less.

No.

I learn more. I do.

When I listen to Pascal's teachings, they resonate with me. I pick them up fast.

What I find myself struggling with is understanding what's around me.

The machines, themselves.

Not history, practices, or principles. Not emotions, customs, or habitual activities of past living creatures—but the very machines I've grown up around.

As more time passes, the less I understand my friends.

The first memory I have is being held by something cold and kind.

I've grown to understand these beings are called machine life forms. I, too, am one. Although I do not look the same as the ones around me, I am a machine life form.

Pascal, the village leader, tells me I am like an advanced version. I have something called skin, and blood, sinew, organs, hair—all these things the regular machines do not have—and that is why I am warm. That is why the other machines in the village like to touch me. They are cold. I am warm.

But we are the same.

It is fine, when they crowd me. When they lay spindly, metal hands on my head or my shoulders. When the children coo at me, awed.

"Like fire, like fire! He is like fire."

I don't know my origin. How I got here. Pascal does not either, but Pascal says most machines were "made" by factories at a certain point. I was, too. Pascal talks about the network and how the connection has been severed, but I am not sure what the network is, or if I was ever apart of it.

I have likely lost my memories.

That is fine. Pascal says my memories are of warfare. Killing, bloodshed, and all around pain. That sounds unpleasant, and I don't think I like unpleasant things.

My memories now are not like that. They are fun. They are happy. The machine village Pascal has brought together is a place of peace and bright futures—and why should we look back at the past, try to remember the dark, when we are here, now, in this place of solitude?

I play with the machines, and they play with me. We learn together. We spend our days in the metal huts, learning to sing, learning about concepts that they seem to struggle with more than I. I understand this in an almost innate way. Of course, I feel. My friends do too—they say they do—but they take longer to take to it.

My friends will take a long time to understand what a "mother" is, for example.

I know it immediately, although I do not have one of my own.

It just makes sense to me, likely because I am more advanced than they. It is simply my make. I am blessed to have more to me.

More what?

Circuitry? Algorithm? Concept? Processing speed? Storage? Memory?

I do have restrictions, though. I am not allowed to leave the village since I look so strange. I am the only machine life form of my kind, and I may confuse the enemies that do exist beyond the rickety village. Not just aggressive machines, but past the dense trees and on the other side of the amusement park, beyond the forest and the city ruins, are other beings that wish to harm us.

Our "natural" enemy, spurred by a never ending conflict.

Androids.

"You look similar to androids," Pascal told me once, "but you are not the same."

That, too, Pascal says, is likely one of my weapons. To trick the enemy with my "friendly" appearance.

But I've asked not to be a weapon. I do like peace so much. Pascal patted my head, the brown hair that grows on it, and said, "Of course not. Not anymore. We will never fight again."

This village is the heart I do not have.

The heart all machines here wish to gain, somehow, through learning.

Mostly, we study humans.

Androids and humans look alike.

I look like them, too.

Because I was once a weapon.

But I'm a machine life form.

I'm certain of this, until—

Until one day, when I'm supposed to be in my metal house studying, I leave.

I leave when Pascal has told me, personally, to stay indoors.

"We may have visitors," he said.

But I'm sure I can avoid them and sneak out. Visitors mean nothing to me.

And as I'm hopping down the steps leading to the forest kingdom, as my bare feet land on the lush grass below, something that looks like an android or a human turns at the sound.

Leaves trickle between us, scattered on the ground. His silver hair falls across the black blindfold around his eyes.

He has paused as though he needs to be jump started.

A spear on his back. A black jacket. A collar.

An android? Is this the guest Pascal spoke of?

He half-turns, his mouth parted in just the slightest.

"Pod 153," the android speaks—a masculine, boyish voice—"please scan it again."

"Affirmative, unit 9S."

We stare at each other like two prey caught in one another's trap.

"Biological scan indicates that this is, without error, a life form known as a human."


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Oh, no.

I zip right around.

I literally dropped myself right in front of an enemy android. This is Pascal's worst fear. What have I done?

I try to amble my way back up to the village but, naturally, the android snatches me before I get far.

He is fast, like a bolt. His hand is gloved, cold, and tight around my wrist. A chill travels up the base of my spine to my shoulder blades and I shudder involuntarily. Cold, like the machines.

"Wait," he says, like I have a choice.

He sounds tense, strange.

He has stopped me but other than grabbing a hold of me, he is not showing aggression. This is odd. I do not know how to respond.

Stay away from the androids, Pascal told me. We are trying to make peace, but they are still the enemy. Our war goes back countless years.

For now, stay away from the androids.

I sure have botched that.

I wait, uncertain. Maybe one of the machines in the village will look down and see us and help me—but maybe not, because we are sheltered beneath the boards that make up steps. I have wedged myself into this nook and the android followed me in. Maybe Pascal was right to keep me hidden in the village. I have no survival instinct.

I turn. The android is the same height as me, but his head is bowed, his face hidden. His hold on me is so tight it might snap my wrist if he adds any more pressure.

"Um." I do not know what to say. "Hello."

Probably not that.

His head lifts and he seems mystified.

"Pod 153." He is speaking like he is on a cloud—voice light as air. "Please confirm that this is a human being."

"Unit 9S has already received confirmation." The floating box behind him—the thing that identified me as a "human"—has a feminine voice. Is this like his sidekick or something? "Proposal: Unit 9S should detain this human life form and consult command."

I jerk away and the android starts. He grabs for me again and this time his grip isn't as tight.

"How come you're here, on Earth?" he asks. "Did I sleep through a meeting? No way. Everyone would've been talking about this."

I stare.

"Man, this is unexpected. I've gotta tell 2B. Though should I? She might be like my pod and suggest we 'detain' you, like it's my right." He lets go at last, leans back, and assumes a thinking position with his arms crossed. "Androids—or their pods—can't just tell humans what to do, can we? I mean, can we?"

I shift my weight from foot to foot. "Um, I think you have me wrong."

He waits, head tilted.

"I am a machine life form."

"And I am a moose. C'mon, this is my first time meeting a human in person—you can drop the act. The closest I've ever got to humans is listening to the council broadcasts from the moon." His head snaps up. "Ah, we shouldn't talk here. Follow me." He grabs my hand—again, like I have a choice—and starts tugging me down the path. "How did you get to Earth, and why are you coming from the machine village? Is this some kinda espionage operation? If so, a scanner unit like myself is sufficient to do that kinda work. In fact, my partner and I have already been tasked with investigating Pascal to figure out his nature."

He takes me further and further into the woods, rambling away.

Pascal told me androids are to be avoided. They're violent. They won't hesitate to strike me down, especially outside of the village.

Pascal is trying to have friendly relations with them but that doesn't mean all of them will listen.

Pascal's teachings . . .

"If you've been scouting this area, what do you think? Pascal might have a really advanced code, specifically for a machine, that makes it so he can appeal to the emotions of androids. We're built with such things, after all, unlike machine life forms." The android goes on and on as we descend a small hill. "I guess we have you humans to thank for installing emotions in us, huh? But Pascal says he doesn't like warfare or fighting, and now that he and other machines have been disconnected from the network . . ."

He is not scary, after all.

The trees become thicker.

I could tug free. I could ask him to leave me be.

But my own curiosity is lit up like fireworks.

He looks like me. He thinks I am a human. He is speaking about Pascal but other than mistrust, he does not show violent intent. Hovering on his back is that long spear with an unsettling face on it, but he hasn't taken hold of it once.

He whips around and I jump in alarm.

"Shit! I am so sorry. It's my first time meeting a human and I'm kinda flustered." He lets me go, finally, and puts a hand to his chest in some kind of salute. "My name's 9S. I'm a support unit. It's an honour to meet you."

I don't say anything.

He relaxes. "May I ask your name?"

"Well, ah, Pascal calls me 'Ribbon'."

"Ribbon?"

When Pascal found me, apparently all I had with me was a ribbon wrapped around my wrist with some kind of number on it. Hence the name. I am uncertain if I should tell this 9S android about it.

"Well, it's an honour, Ribbon."

The pod floats closer. "Proposal: Unit 9S should contact command. This human being seems lost and command can provide shelter, and also shed light on the situation."

9S glances at his pod, and then at me. "What do you think, Ribbon?"

He is asking me. He is not ordering me around or "detaining" me.

He saluted me.

In his chain of command, maybe humans are high up?

Wait. Pascal's teachings. He told me androids were created by humans, so am I as high up on the command as could be?

So—in this situation—if he thinks I am a human—

He's awaiting orders?

A silence gathers while I scrutinise him. He is standing, waiting, hands lack at his sides.

I did not expect this today. I thought my day would consist of taking a peaceful walk, playing with rabbits, and then heading back to the village and studying.

"Do not contact command," I say.

Although 9S is friendly, Pascal has cautioned me to avoid both outside machines and androids for my own safety. I am a special machine. I cannot let 9S take me right into the base of the enemy.

"My post is here," I add. That should be enough, right?

"Post?" He sprouts a grin. "I knew it! You're investigating. I didn't know humans were partaking in missions on Earth." He comes in close, crowding. "Ribbon, can you tell me about human operations? What kind of tactics are you employing? I thought YoHRa was your only card—'humanity's only hope' and all—but maybe you've been strengthening yourself up on the moon?"

The moon. He has mentioned that before.

The humans he serves are all on the moon?

"Oh, uh, it is confidential." Because I am bad at lying, especially to an android who seems full to the brim in curiosity. I get the feeling he will never stop asking me questions if I answer one.

"Aw, that sucks." He sets a hand on my shoulder, lifts it off, and then puts it back on. "This is amazing. You're warm, Ribbon."

I swallow. "Yeah."

"I can't believe I've finally met a human being." He sounds breathless.

I jump when he grabs my hand again, but instead of holding it, he inspects it.

He goes through each of my fingers, wiggling them. "We really are modelled after you."

Really. Are all androids this friendly?

"And this!" He laughs and touches my hair. His hand is cold against my scalp, even through the glove. I close an eye as he fiddles with some strands. It feels—nice?

"This is fascinating. I'm touching a human!" He seems lost in his own adventuring. I am used to being poked and prodded at by curious machine children, but this is a little different because he looks so much like me. So androids will act similarly to my design?

Something materialises beside us, so fast and unexpected we both rip away from each other in alarm. I land on my ass, my senses haywire, while 9S scratches his head. Even though he stepped back, he doesn't seem as startled.

Another android with silvery hair and a black headband—a female android—stands where we just were. She has a heavy sword drawn, white and ethereal, held in both her hands.

"9S." Her voice is sharp. "Who is this?"

My tail bone throbs. She didn't outright attack me but she might as well have.

Her. She might be the type of android Pascal warned me about.

I cannot stop staring at her. Am I afraid or star struck? I am really unsure.

"Oh, uh, 2B." 9S sets a hand on her arm. "It's okay, this is—"

"9S, who is this unidentified—?"

"He's a human."

She jolts away from him, and then settles her stare on me. "What?"

Now I get the feeling I really have to play along.

I clear my throat and give an awkward wave.

"_What?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

2B instructs her pod to scan me, and then scan me again, and then again.

She looks incredulous.

I can relate. If she is thinking there is no way I can be a human, she is right. I am a machine life form—although a very unusual one.

Both their pods, which they seem to trust to the fullest, have mistaken me.

Just how well made am I? I appear authentic to their scanners.

"A human." Her voice drops like a stone. "I never thought I would live to meet one."

"Bit grim, 2B." 9S picks at some dirt on his shoulder—spray from when she landed between us and forced us apart. "Isn't this amazing, though? He's called 'Ribbon' and he's on an espionage mission that grunts like us aren't privy to know the details about." His voice starts chipper but goes a little sour at the end.

2B's hostility ebbs away, just a little. She faces me and salutes me. "I am 2B, a battle class. Glory to mankind."

I try on a smile. "Nice to meet you. I am Ribbon."

Should I excuse myself now? Go back to Pascal and tell him I am in a bit of a situation?

I get the feeling the androids will follow me, though.

And what if they see Pascal and I conversing normally? When I am on a supposed espionage mission, which—well, conversing normally with the target is kind of not espionage in any way or form.

What do I do?

I have tried telling 9S I am a machine life form, and by all means, I should keep trying, right?

After all, they were in the village. They did not hurt any of the machines. As it is now, they are not hostiles.

I can explain. Pascal told me lying is something bad children do, and although I am no longer a child, it still applies, right?

9S and 2B are shooting each other glances now.

They are waiting.

I wish I knew what they wanted. Orders? Suggestions?

I do not know what to do.

"Um." I push the word out. "I, likewise, have never met an android." It is not a lie. "I am also unsure of, er, protocol?"

Do I tell them? 9S did not believe me, but I do not want to lie.

They seem very invested in humans, and to deceive them is bad.

But.

2B is watching me, sharp and alert.

She is a wildcard. If she had not appeared, would I have kept trying to explain to 9S?

I knock my fists together. "I should, um, return to my duties."

9S comes up beside me, walking in an unnecessary arc, hands behind his back—and for the first time, I get the sense there's something about him I have misjudged or misinterpreted. "We can help."

"Ah, no—" As I thought, he will not let me go.

"9S." 2B has actually come between us again, a hand on his chest. "Our orders do not change. I believe we were never meant to meet this human. Command did not inform us about their presence on Earth."

"Then doesn't that mean Command isn't aware?" 9S sounds overly casual.

"Of course Command is aware. The humans broadcast directly to them. But as you said, we are grunts. We are the ones who should not be meddling."

"But, 2B—!"

"Orders are orders. Our mission takes precedence. It is not up to us to question command or be in the know. We were made to kill."

Thank all that is holy for this intense 2B android. If it would not be wildly inappropriate I would hug her.

9S takes in a deep breath. "Like I should not question our orders to kill our comrades?"

2B hesitates. "Yes, 9S."

"And the E class unit? I'm not supposed to question that either? Even after we found out—"

2B grabs 9S' shoulders and he winces. He goes quiet.

I shift, awkward.

2B's hands fall from 9S and she takes a step back. Neither will look at each other.

"Um, I really must go now." I take a wide step backwards.

They snap their attention onto me and I swallow.

"I would appreciate it if you would pretend you never met me." I spin around and speed walk away.

I am half convinced one of them is going to come charging after me, but nothing happens. I only hear them bickering as they become more distant with every step I take.

"Why were you so close to him?"

"I was touching him!"

"I know, but why?"

"He's a human."

"You shouldn't—"

When I am out of earshot and out of sight, I dash home.

* * *

"Ew, what is that odd substance all over your body?" Margot, of all machines, is near the edge of the village, picking at plants.

"Sweat." I gasp the word out. "It's sweat."

"It sounds unpleasant. It looks unpleasant." Margot finds a red flower and rubs it on her finger. It smears red. "Oh, this is wonderful."

I try to control my breathing and glance over my shoulder. No sign of the androids. They must have listened. I am so lucky.

Margot turns to me and stares for a moment.

"What are you looking for?" I put my hands behind my back, and then freeze. What am I doing? I am mimicking 9S' posture from before, when he—

When he was trying to be innocent.

Which is exactly what I am doing now.

Am I learning from them?

I am so adaptable it is frightening, even to myself.

Or maybe—maybe our mannerisms are similar for another reason? But what reason could that be?

"Humans in the past used to put on face make up, as you know." Margot fidgets with the flower. "If I smear this on my mouth, it will make me more beautiful."

"Will it?" I tilt my head. She stares at me more and I jump. "I mean, it will. You are very beautiful already, Margot. I am sure Jean-Paul will—"

She waves me away and waddles her way further into the flowers.

I hop onto the upper platform, then pause. "Margot?"

"Oh, what is it, child?"

I am not a child. I want to throw a rock at her. "You have something red on your lips already. What is that from?"

"Blood."

I hesitate. "Whose?"

"Just some rabbit, Ribbon. Must you be so bothersome?"

I cross my eyes. Margot is definitely one of my least favourite machines.

I stand up.

"It was already dead," she adds.

"Sure."

I carry on into the village, but pause at the upper landing and look back into the forest.

Looks like they have decided to leave me alone, after all.

I am so lucky.


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

It has been four days since I met the androids.

For the first time, I have kept something from Pascal.

I had full intentions of telling Pascal about my encounter, but everything seems to have taken care of itself. No trouble has come from me and the androids meeting. I do not want to worry Pascal over nothing.

Those androids will be back since they are investigating Pascal, after all, but I will not be seen again. I will listen to Pascal. I used to sneak out and play in the forest. Now, I won't. If Pascal tells me to stay indoors, I will stay indoors. I will not make another misstep.

I am blessed nothing came from interacting with 9S and 2B.

But I can't get them out of my head.

To distract myself, I bury myself in the books Pascal brings me. I stay away from playing with the children because they like to play near the forest, and I know myself. I may wander. Curiosity may plague me and I may wander.

So I stay indoors and read.

The most recent book Pascal has given me is weird. It is the weirdest book I have come across so far. Pascal called it "human literature" and this one is a "romance novel."

Of all the things Pascal has me read—philosophy, manuals, psychology, linguistics—this is the strangest. It is about "love" between a female and a male human. Pascal has told me humans need a male and female to procreate—they do some unpleasant sounding stuff to each other and then the female undergoes horrible body transformations before producing a smaller, mixed version of the two. It is terrifying.

Machine life forms are simply made with parts in a factory and assigned roles.

Way less messy.

Pascal's village is unique in that Pascal has been accepting familial roles for us and that makes us "warmer" and "kinder" according to him.

Anyway, the book thankfully does not detail that strange birth phenomenon, and only talks about the feelings between the female and male human.

Feelings.

Pascal pokes his head in my room and I lift my neck. Ow. I have a cramp from bending over.

"How are you finding the book, Ribbon?" Pascal asks.

I knead at my neck and lean against the wall. "It's weird, Pascal."

"Oh, Ribbon. You used a contraction!"

Oh. Machine life forms don't tend to use them, but the androids were. They sound less "stiff" than us machines.

"The book is weird," I repeat. I do not want Pascal asking about where I picked up the habit.

"Weird?"

"I do not understand the conditions of these two humans. First off—how did they get like this? It sounds like a disease."

"Love?"

"Yes."

Pascal laughs. "Emotions. Humans were full of them to the point where you could even say they were ruled by them. I suppose as we evolve, we also convey emotions."

I push my blanket away. My room is bare with just a blanket and a bunch of cloth I rolled up to act as a head support. The other machines do not get cold so they do not need such things. I wear "clothing" too to protect myself since being such a precise mimic of a human being has put me at a disadvantage in some cases. My deceptive appearance is my weapon. My only weapon, really.

Put me out in the cold and I will freeze to death. Lay me in the desert and I will overheat and die. Stab me and I will bleed out.

I really am an odd model.

"It just does not make sense. And the humans in this are female and male? Does that mean they must be opposites to feel these emotions?"

Pascal makes a thinking noise. "That, I do not know, but I have come across records of humans of the same sex partaking in similar activities."

I do not have any humans around to understand this book, but the androids look like humans and are modelled after humans.

So, if I pretend 2B is the female human in this book, and 9S is the male—that would complete the requirements, at least in accordance to this book, of love?

Is that all?

Did all humans just love each other if they were opposite sex?

I rustle my own hair. I do not understand.

Pascal laughs. "Read more books like this, if you are curious."

I am. Immensely. And I do not know why.

* * *

Another oddity to me: I dream.

Usually it is about chasing rabbits or the machine life forms poking me with things, but—

Five nights after I met the androids. Five nights I dreamt of them.

Now that I have seen them. Seen what they look like. How they are, apparently, the spitting image of humans.

After reading the weird romance thing in its entirety yesterday, I dream of 2B. I dream I have the feelings of the male human. I think 2B is "pretty" and "sensitive"—but when I wake I roll over and rub my face and laugh. 2B is not like the delicate human in that book. She is attractive—which is odd for me to think, because I should not be programmed to think of the enemy androids as such—but she is lethal.

When I fall back asleep, I dream of 9S. 9S touched me like the humans in that book touched each other.

My shoulder and especially the way he played with my fingers and my hair.

In that book, the female and male humans did stuff like that with each other, and they reported it "feeling good."

I relate to that. When 9S was touching my hair, it felt good. I think about it a lot and sometimes I tug my own hair to try and get that feeling back, but it does not work the same as when someone else does it.

It's ridiculous.

What the two in the book were really yearning for was human contact.

It is not like a machine life form can yearn for such a thing. It does not even make sense.

And yet.

We study humans.

We obsess.

Pascal has built this village around old human customs.

Just what were humans and why is everything we do stained by them?

I can't sleep.

I sit up and go to the window. The village is quiet. Although the sun stays in place, the day does change. It becomes sleepier and still.

Even the animals in the forest behave different. The prey burrow or hide, turning in for the day. The predators come out, hoping to catch a lingering squirrel or sniff one out.

I want to go outside.

When this urge invades, I find a book, but now even books are fuelling my curiosity.

I leave my room, my bare feet silent against the planks. Maybe I'll look for those flowers Margot was picking, or I'll see if Pete—one of the newer machines—is sleeping okay. Machine life forms do not need sleep, but they have developed a way to achieve it. Necessary or not, it seems to give them comfort to shut down for a few hours.

I take the west exit, walking across bridges, and pass Lewis, who is on guard duty but has shut himself down anyway. I shake my head. Works for me.

I don't plan on going far.

I walk through the brush, along a small dirt path, until I reach the crevice.

This is as far as I am allowed to go and as far as I will venture on my own.

A wide, broken road. Ahead is the blockade Pascal and the villagers set up to separate us from the city ruins. The crevice to my right leads to the canyon below, but mist covers it now. If I was not aware it was there, I could easily walk through it and fall to my death.

I stretch into the fog. It is nice to be out of the village to clear my head.

Ahead, a silhouette appears near the blockade. Someone's approaching.

I hurry to the forest and slink behind a tree.

The figure takes its time nearing. It appears to be taken by the fog, but as it draws near, its shape becomes more recognisable.

2B.

What is she doing here?

I didn't notice last time, but she carries two swords at once. One small, one large. She walks without concern, but she does stop near me. Her gaze lifts and she fixates on the spot I'm hiding in.

Crap.

"You can come out."


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

Crap, crap, crap.

How did she know? Did her pod tip her off?

I stand and brush grass off my pants, and then approach. "Oh, hello."

"Is this how you hide and perform, what was it, 'espionage'?" She sounds wry.

"No. I have way more nimble and crafty ways, that, um, cannot be disclosed." I shift my weight on either foot. "So. So, what brings you here?"

"I am here to speak to Pascal." She gives me the up and down. "And perhaps you, now that you're here. I wasn't sure if I'd find you."

I don't say anything. What could she possibly want with me? Now that 9S isn't here, is she going to kidnap me?

"Have you seen 9S?" she asks.

"Huh?"

"The scanner model who was with me when we met. Have you seen him?"

I look left, and then right, as if he may suddenly pop up. "No, why?"

"It's nothing."

"Has he been missing?"

"Not at all." She sets a hand on her hip and blows a strand of hair out of her face when she sighs.

"Is everything okay?" I do not know why I pry but I can't stop myself.

"He disappears whenever we rest," she says. "When I ask about it, he says he's gathering intel about the machines. He doesn't specify any more than that."

"Oh. He sounds like a hard worker?"

She taps her fingers against her hip. "I thought maybe he has been talking to you."

I hold up my hands. "No, no. I haven't seen him at all."

But then where does he go?

Not that I should bother wondering. I don't know anything about him at all and there's literally a hundred things he could be up to. For all I know he goes fishing in his spare time.

"If he does come seeking you out, can you not encourage him?" She approaches me, her heels clicking against the mortar. "While I, too, am drawn to humans, I am not as driven by my emotions as he is."

"What?" I scratch my head. Why is there a burning sensation in my ears? "What?" Androids are drawn to humans, and she thinks I am a human. If I was a human, that would make sense. This is awful. Deception is awful. Well, it is supposed to be. Lying is bad, Pascal says, but I do not mind lying if an android like her is drawn to a weird, floppy machine like me because of it.

"For some reason, Command has left the fact humans are on Earth in the dark to us. They have done so for a reason." She lifts a hand, the white and black glove reflecting sunlight for a moment as she reaches for me. "I know this, and I also know what happens if we stray too far from the path Command has assigned us."

Her hand drops.

"You are not my mission, nor my business—as hard as it is to walk away." She spins on her heel and takes a few steps towards the path to the village. She glances back over her shoulder at me. "What I have now is more precious than information that is out of reach."

Wow, I must be really well made weapon. I seem to put androids through a loop.

I give a nervous laugh and shrug. "Well, okay." I don't fully understand, but basically we should all stay away from each other, so that's good, right?

Basically, if her chain of command catches her or 9S straying from their mission to go snoop in other corners, bad things happen.

Still, what will she lose if she strays from her orders and acknowledges a human—even if I am fake—is on Earth?

Why is she going against her inner instinct to protect whatever she's trying to protect?

She disappears down the path, covered by the fog.

My ears stop burning and I kick at a stray rock.

Stay away from the androids. My goal has never changed and now that I've talked to 2B, I've found out their goal is the same. Or should be.

It'll be easy to avoid each other.

* * *

I try to read. Pascal brings me food—some berries and vegetables that grow nearby. I am such an immaculate design I even share the necessity of eating like humans of the past. It is actually nonsensical how much I resemble a human, biologically.

I read two more "romance novels" and find myself understanding. Or, at least I think I'm understanding. There are no humans to confirm the truth.

Not all female and male humans develop "feelings" for one another. It seems to be at random. Sometimes encounters trigger it, and sometimes pastimes or hobbies humans may share, and sometimes it just happens because it happens, which is vague and unhelpful.

It seems like a very complex and daunting system.

And as the days pass, I find myself looking around the village.

I raid Jean-Paul's house and he spouts a riddle at me. He won't chide me—he doesn't really care if I go through his stuff.

He doesn't bother to ask what I'm doing.

"Jean-Paul?" I interrupt.

He looks down at me.

"I love you."

He has gotten many female machines' attention, so he must be used to this.

He blank-stares at me for a moment. "Oh, of course, that is to be expected. What is love if not an existential yet ungraspable concept? At its core, it has many faces."

Yeah, I don't get it. I walk away as he carries on talking.

Next I check the junk pile Sally calls her "treasure trove" but do not find what I am looking for. I do not find Sally herself, so I cannot tell her I love her and gauge her reaction.

I go under the foundation and inspect any possible hiding spots, but I come up empty.

What am I expecting?

To find 9S under a sheet of plywood with a pair of binoculars?

It's wishful thinking.

I want him to be curious about me like 2B said they are. 2B has made it clear she's going to stay away, but she said 9S has difficulty keeping his emotions in check. She thought he was disappearing to hang around me.

I want him to be hiding in nooks in the village, gathering data about me.

Maybe he'll gather a bunch and eventually confess to 2B that he has been straying, and maybe 2B will cave too—and they will come play with me?

Roger, a little machine without arms, bumps into me to get my attention.

"What is it?" I turn to him.

"Tag. We wanna play tag."

"I am busy." I nudge him away.

"Busy doing what? You've been checking every corner. Did you lose something?"

Another small machine approaches. "We can help you find it! Hurray! A scavenger hunt!"

"A scanvenger hunt!" another machine cries.

"Scavenger, idiot!"

I regard them with a frown. Their games are boring now. I used to love tag. I could run around all day until the wind left me, but since meeting 2B and 9S—what games could we play? They have similar physiques as me and seem to be on a similar emotional and intellectual level.

I mean, Roger asked to play tag and he has no arms to even catch me with.

Although I am a machine, I am designed to fit in with androids, right?

I ruffle my own hair. "Ugh, I don't want to."

"Play!"

"Hunt!"

"Play!"

I head for the ladder and climb back up, ignoring their calls.

I'm restless.

I should not want to see the androids again. Pascal has taught me well, but something in me is threatening to burst.

I go back to my room and read more, but it's hard to focus. I read lines over and over again and they don't process.

Maybe I should get water? To clear my head? And maybe—if I am being monitored—

My pulse becomes rapid.

I head out of the village to the stream nearby. It's a quick walk, one I make all the time. I cup my hands and take a drink. The water is cool and pleasant and refreshing.

My heartbeat pounds away.

Please, please.

I stand up and wipe my mouth with my arm.

Maybe 9S is—

Something rises in my line of vision.

Black, long, and thin, with a crude face near the jagged blade.

A spear.

It's 9S' spear.

A jolt goes through me.

It's 9S! He's here!

The spear rises, floating itself directly in front of me, with the point of the blade aimed for me.

Wait. I should not be this happy when a spear is being pointed at my head.

9S' voice comes from behind me, devoid next to my ear.

"Got you."

* * *

**AN:** Hey everyone! Thanks for reading. If you're following/favouriting this, consider dropping me a review to let me know what you think :) You guys are awesome!


	6. Chapter 6

**6.**

I'm conflicted.

I am happy 9S is here and yet unhappy he is perhaps going to kill me.

I do not understand. I cannot process it.

Why is he pointing his spear at me? How is he even controlling it without touching it? What did I do that is so bad he wants to kill me?

Wait. Why am I surprised?

He is an android. Enemy of the machines. Maybe he has figured out I am a machine after all.

But why the hostility towards me and not the other machines in the village?

"Oh, um, hello." I take a step back from the spear, because distancing myself from it sounds like a good survival tactic and all, but yelp when I bump into 9S. He is_ right_ behind me.

He catches my shoulders and holds me in place. "Ribbon. What a coincidence!"

But it isn't a coincidence, is it?

Is it?

I swallow. "How have you been?" Small talk. Really, Ribbon?

"Why is a human, who is apparently on an espionage mission, living with machine life forms?" 9S asks.

So, he has been watching me in his spare time. I am both very pleased and very aware of what that means now.

I take it back. This android is scary. 9S is really scary. I don't want enemies like this. I want to go back to the machine village and play with the children and pretend they are androids because at least when they mimic androids they are about as scary as a piece of lint.

"I am very bad at my job?" I try.

9S says nothing.

"Then . . . I meant 'undercover,' not 'espionage.' I get those mixed up sometimes?"

9S lets go of my shoulders and steps in front of me. His boots dig into the ground, purposeful but quiet. The smooth way androids move is jarring compared to the awkward jerking movements of the machines. It's like watching the difference between water flowing and rocks disrupting it.

The spear circles me now which makes it more unnerving because I can imagine it poking me in the back, in the shoulder, in the side of the face—anywhere. It whistles as it soars through the air.

How is this the same android from before?

The one who took me by the wrist and happily rambled away. Who took each of my fingers with meticulous curiosity. That is an android who would be fun to play with.

This one?

Maybe not?

"I do not understand your actions, Ribbon. From what I've gathered, you live there and you've been there for a long time." He nods his head behind me, indicating towards the village. "Habituating with the enemy like this. The enemy that has driven your kind to near extinction. You're familial with them. Are you betraying your own kind?"

"No, no."

"What's the matter with you? Why are you shaking?"

"Huh?" I waver. "I mean, I'm scared. Aren't you going to kill me?"

He frowns. "What?"

He's pointing a spear at me and acting antagonistic and he says, "What?" in an innocent way?

I don't understand him.

9S leans back. "Have you never had a weapon pointed at you? I'm only doing this in case you attack me."

I look down at myself. "With what?"

"Your hidden weapon."

"I don't have a hidden weapon."

He shakes his head, slow from side to side, as if he can't fathom this. "I've found out about you, so logically, you will try and kill me. How long are you going to keep acting?"

"I'm not acting! I am not armed. I don't kill."

He sighs. "You 'don't kill'? That is impossible. There is no way a human will be wandering around Earth without any sort of weapon in a war zone like this. It doesn't make sense."

"I swear, I don't have a weapon! Even if I did, I wouldn't know how to hide it."

9S cocks his head. "We'll get nowhere if you keep lying."

"I'm not. I'm really not."

"Then I'll make you show it."

How's he gonna—?

He lifts his hand and the spear slices through the air, straight for me. I'm sure it's going to kill me—straight through my eye and to the circuitry that makes up my brain—but it goes off course at the last second and whizzes past my ear and a sting erupts there.

I swat a hand over my ear with a hiss. The spear has gone and lodged itself in the dirt beside me.

9S steps back. "What? Why didn't you pull your weapon out?"

I sink to the damp grass. "Um, please don't do that again. I don't want to die."

He moved it at the last second. He was going to kill me, or at least scare me, but he stopped.

He stares down at me.

"Ah, this hurts. It's like when I trip when the children chase me and my knees bleed. It's so unpleasant." My chest is tight and there's a dizziness I can't stop.

He doesn't move.

I take my hand away. There isn't a lot of blood, but my ear is stinging a lot.

"Aren't you a traitor?" His voice is paper thin. "Why won't you fight back?"

"I don't fight. I'm from Pascal's village and I don't want to hurt anyone."

"From Pascal's village?"

"I didn't mean to lie." I think I might hyperventilate. "I even told you the truth but you did not believe me."

He kneels in front of me. "When you said you are a machine life form?"

I nod.

"You haven't betrayed the humans?"

"I don't know any humans to betray."

He takes in a huge breath, and then lets it out in a sigh. "Ribbon, what are you?"

"I am a machine life form, built to look and act like a human in order to confuse enemy androids." I flinch. "I did not do this on purpose, though. I promise. I did not mean to confuse you."

He pokes me in the side of the head. "Wow."

Um. I go still. What does that mean?

He falls back, sitting on his butt in front of me. "You're not a traitor." He drops his head and stares at the sky. "I am so relieved."

I blink.

He clamps a hand over his blindfold and grits his teeth. "I don't want to do that again."

"Erh, well, I don't want you to either, if you can help it."

"I was so excited to meet a human." He sways from side to side. "After all this time, wanting to meet one, to touch one, to learn about one in the flesh. When I saw you last week I wanted to never let you go."

My ears go hot. Why do they do that?

I know this, though. Androids won't let humans just amble away, like they seemed to do when I—well, ambled away.

Their attachment is too strong. Especially if they are emotional, like 2B says 9S is.

Pascal's teachings are accurate. I was afraid of this, at first. Afraid they would not let me go. I get the feeling if I told 9S to leave me alone, he would not listen.

But I want them around, too.

Why?

9S grabs a fist full of grass and tosses it with a smile. "I had to know what you were up to. What humans were up to. I spied on you and—and I thought you were conspiring with the enemy. Protocol would suggest I kill you, but I don't think I could've even if you . . ."

The pleasant feeling snaps. "Is that, uh, so?"

"Yeah, but I can't kill a human. The concept is absurd."

He really does seem relieved.

"Being betrayed." He flops onto his back. "It's . . . exhausting."

"I, um, can imagine." I can't. I've never been betrayed.

He stares offside, expression placid. A slight breeze stirs his hair. Machine life forms don't have hair. They don't move like 9S or myself. 9S is uncanny to watch, but I can't look away.

I sit and watch, transfixed and not knowing why. We're just sitting together in silence. Like friends, maybe. Although he just tried to kill me—or bluff at killing me—so maybe not.

"I am so happy you are just massively confused." He laughs into the back of his hand, into the glove. "Humans really do need to be protected. I'm glad YoHRa is needed."

I'm not sure what he's rambling about, but he seems to have reached a wonderful realisation so I should be happy for him, too, right?

We sit in more silence. Is it my turn to speak, or—? I am not good with social cues sometimes.

"Um, so just to clarify, am I safe now?" I ask.

He sits up straight. I hold myself as still as I can in case a sudden movement will provoke him to send his spear at me again.

He shifts closer and I tense. He shifts again and reaches for me.

He touches my ear, brushing a thumb over the cut. It hurts.

"Ribbon," 9S says, "I'm sorry I cut you. I think you and I are similar."

Similar? In what way? He's a violent soldier who is sometimes a nonviolent soldier and I'm a clueless machine. I think.

9S drops his hand. "Ribbon, listen. You are a human, and you have been deceived."

"Huh?"

"The one who has been deceiving you is Pascal."

* * *

**AN:** Big bad Pascal.

I had someone ask how often I update but I can't reply to guest reviews, so I'll just say here: I aim to update every 1-2 weeks, but it depends on how motivated I am! I had a bit of a rough week but I got so many great reviews that it really got my inspiration back up and going - so thanks everyone!


	7. Chapter 7

**7.**

"I do not know if Pascal knows." I trail after 9S, who is wandering deeper into the woods. Sunlight streams in between cracks in the leaves above, casting tiny spotlights all around us. 9S' hair sometimes appears grey to silver depending on which light he steps into.

"There is no way he doesn't." 9S digs through some kind of plant near a massive tree trunk. "But if Pascal's our enemy, why hasn't he utilised you? Used you to strongarm YoHRa? Or killed you, at least?"

"Killed me?"

"The machines' goal is to completely exterminate humankind."

"N-not Pascal's."

9S shrugs. "Apparently not. Just all humans but you, maybe? Is there something special about you to the machines?"

Me, special?

Well, I am, but not in a spectacular way. More like, "Ribbon, you're a special machine so just sit and don't do anything but collect dust."

I brush my hands together. "Yeah, about that. Isn't there a chance you could accept I'm a machine? A machine that is very convincingly human?"

He stands up straight, his expression neutral. "There isn't."

"But, what if there's an error in—"

"There is no error, Ribbon."

He sounds so certain it's hard not to just believe him.

But of course, how can I? Believing him means shifting my entire reality and identity. And somehow that makes it difficult to function. What does it mean to not be who you are? Then who are you, if you aren't you?

Oh no, I sound like Jean-Paul.

9S has his palm open flat and he's peering down at whatever is in it. "I've met humanlike machine life forms and they are nothing like you. They don't invoke the same reaction. When androids encounter those types, our system warns us and there is no doubt."

There are other humanlike machine life forms?

But they aren't like me?

"Those machines are the worst because they imitate our creators, and it's infuriating. You're different from them, Ribbon."

"How can you differentiate?" My voice is small.

9S walks to me. "I knew you were human before Pod 153 traced you. It's a feeling, Ribbon, that rose when you were close. It's like being suffocated and learning to breathe at once. If you were fake, I would not have felt that. I would've felt fear."

Wow, I can do that to androids? I am pretty cool.

But still—

That sounds like it is something congenital.

My heartbeat's picking up.

It's not like I believe him. It's not like there's even a teensy chance I could be a human—the thing these androids long for and protect with their lives.

But it's nice to have someone feel strongly towards me.

He reaches to my ear and I jump when he massages whatever's in his hand into the cut.

"I asked my pod about herbs to help this heal," he says. "This is some kinda pollen. It should at least take away the pain with its numbing properties."

"Oh." It feels nice when he touches my ear now. "Thanks." I push my head against his hand.

His smile is sheepish. "I can't rub it in when you do that."

I pull back. "Oops."

"Also, don't thank me. I am the one who made this cut. You could yell at me, you know?"

"Yelling is hard on the lungs."

"It is."

"Yes, so it would be counterproductive."

"I guess that is . . . weirdly true."

We share a grin.

"Lungs, huh?" he says. "So you know you have those."

"Well, I mimic a human in many ways."

He shakes his head.

I like 9S again. "Um, 9S?"

"Yeah?" He takes his hand away.

"Will you play with me?"

"What?"

"The machines are a bit boring since I met you and 2B." I draw a trail in the dirt with my toes. "I would like to try playing with you."

He stares for a moment. "Oh, right. You were raised by machines." His mouth twists. "Listen, Ribbon. Your intellect goes beyond child's play."

"Child's play?"

"According to my metabolism data on you, you've been alive for fifteen or sixteen years. The cell data is similar. You're really, really young—at least, compared to androids and machine life forms—but you aren't a human child. I'm guessing you act the way you do because of your surroundings."

I nod.

"Can you read?"

"Oh. _Oh._ I love reading. I read all sorts of books."

And I do. I've read about people around my "age"—playing with 9S' idea—in literature or in academic studies. If I was a human, I am acting out of norm to the humans of the past.

But I don't live in the same social environment as those humans. I don't even live in the same era. I don't know what a television is—not really—or what "gossip" means or "crushing on someone." I don't bother with makeup like Margot and I don't worry about "sports." All these things mentioned in old age books I've put together piece by piece. I have a pretty good understanding of human life spans and what humans do at what stage.

9S giving me an age is kind of fun, like a game I can now find myself in. I can pin myself in the books I've read and assess what I might be like if I were a human.

So according to most ancient societies, if I lived in the past I'm supposed to be going to a place called "school." Of course that does not exist here in my time, but funnily enough, I study.

I study all the time.

He smiles. "Great. What else do you do for fun?"

Other than read and learn? "I pick flowers and I root through junk to help my friends make new body parts, and sometimes I sit in the forest and try to count how many rabbits I see, but then I get confused because they can be hard to tell apart, so what if I have already counted one and I just counted it again by accident?"

9S laughs and turns away. "You really do have childish conceptions." He whips back around so fast I almost fall back, but he catches my shoulders and holds me in place. "This is amusing! What do you want to play?"

I get to choose?

I'll pick something that will impress him. I'm way faster than all the other machines.

"Running!"

"Running?"

"Yes, let's race."

He puts a gloved hand to his mouth. "Sure. Let's see how fast you can run."

Yes! I am good at this game. Running and racing and playing tag. I nod until my head might fall off.

We start side by side. Oh yeah! We are the same height. That makes me happy.

The wind whistles through the trees and we glance at each other.

He says, "Go!" and we both take off.

He disappears before I can comprehend what has happened.

How did he—?

I am literally left in his dust.

I give a sad cough.

He comes back, zigzagging from behind trees. "What?" He jogs back to me, at a normal-person pace. "You're really slow."

I swallow. "I'm not." Compared to the machines, I'm the fastest. This isn't fair.

He stops in front of me and plops a hand down on top of my head. "Ha! Well, I am an S model. I'm built to be pretty nimble. And not to mention, I'm the best around of my class."

"Best around?" My voice is high with awe. "That sounds amazing. You're amazing." I guess it's to be expected that I can't beat the best of a kind of something. Or—what?

He scratches at the back of his head. "You're really expressive, Ribbon."

"But you are amazing!"

He rubs his neck now. "A human calling me amazing? I don't know what to do."

"Um." I don't know what he should do either. Is there something he should be doing? I should be doing? I wish I had a manual to follow.

"I wonder if I can program you to—" He jerks back, sudden, as if he has been short circuited. "Ah, no. I can't."

"Cannot what?"

"I was gonna say I could program you to be faster. It's just a simple chip installation, but you're a human." He walks around me, but when I turn to face him he doesn't let me. He pushes me so I'm facing away again.

His hand finds the back of my neck and I tense. I can't see him and that makes me hyper aware of his touch. Cold and solid, the pads of his gloved fingers adding pressure.

He pats around my shoulder blades. "Nope. No entry points or anything."

I poke at my own neck, curious. His hand drops and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"I don't know how to make you more efficient." He comes to my side now and lifts my right arm, straight up, and then lets it drop. I catch it before I hit myself.

"Pod?" He glances over his shoulder at the floating block behind him.

I grab hold of 9S' elbow to keep him in place, and then step behind him and push the collar of his jacket down. He makes a little choking noise.

He has grooves along his neck and shoulders. I touch my neck again. Grooves I don't have. I dig my fingers in against his neck, around the spine where a thicker groove is, and he wriggles free with a little, "Wah!"

"Ribbon, that tickles. Are you a squirrel looking for food?" He adjusts his collar as he stares at the ground. "You should warn me if you're going to touch me like that."

"Oh, sorry. You did it to me, so I just . . ."

"Shit! I did, didn't I? I just grabbed a human and started inspecting." He slaps his palm to his face. "My curiosity takes over sometimes, Ribbon. You can get mad."

"No! I like it."

He keeps trained on the ground for a few moments. "Um, Pod?" He looks up. "Since humans can't upgrade their bodies like androids, are they destined to just—be like they are? No chances for improvement or instant adapting?"

His pod hovers in a U-pattern above us. "Humans used to partake in strength training and cardiovascular activities in order to improve their physical condition. However, it is vastly inferior to the kinds of technology androids use in order to maximise their potential. It is not only tremendously slower, but also involves the breaking down—that is, the tearing—and mending of muscles to strengthen them."

"That sounds painful," 9S says.

"Affirmative. It can be."

9S focuses on me. "Man, humans have it rough. Are you okay? You aren't torn anywhere right now, are you?"

I look down at myself. "I do not believe so." I shift my weight from foot to foot. "Oh, ah, 9S?" I'm a little in over my head. Why can his pod answer such complicated questions? I know I am not really a human—probably—but I should at least know all about humans because I am made to be exactly like one.

Why don't I have innate knowledge? Why can't I access information about myself? Vital information?

Why don't I have any "entry points" like 9S has?

"Yeah, Ribbon?"

"Do you have a manual?"

"A manual?"

"To yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"Like something I can follow that will tell me about you. You are by far the most complex being I have come across and I can't fully comprehend you, so I was wondering if you maybe came with a manual or guidelines or something to help me decipher."

We stare at each other.

He touches a hand to his chest, and then frowns. "No. No, I don't come with something like that, Ribbon."

"Oh." Then I guess I gotta learn the long way. I spark up a grin and then mimic what he did to me earlier, after the nonexistent race. I plop my hand down on top of his head and his hair is soft and new—a very new texture. "That's not bad, then! I will learn about you on my own." I lift my hand off, and then put it right back down. Never mind. I don't want to stop touching the softness. It feels really nice.

I knead with my hand and then bring my other hand up and knead with both. So. Soft.

He closes one eye. "Uh. What are you doing, Ribbon?"

"You feel soft here."

"It's hair. You have it too."

"Yes, but mine's full of twigs and dirt."

He catches my wrists and makes me stop, and then he takes a step away and bends over, resting his hands on his knees. "You're going to kill me."

I blink. "What? I don't kill, remember? Why would I ever—"

He makes a sound—a non word—and I get the feeling he wants me to stop talking, so I listen to my instincts and stop talking.

He straightens and maybe it's okay to talk now.

"You must play in the water a lot." Early on I discovered I like going into water because it makes me feel less sticky, so I play in the water a lot. This is probably why his hair is so soft.

"Water?" He rolls his shoulders. "It's just maintenance. But I have a feeling your maintenance is much more tedious than an android's."

Is being human really so hard?

His head snaps back. Sometimes he moves so fast I can't keep up. Like a hummingbird, he's at his pod now, poking at the air beside it.

I make my way to him, curious.

"Ah—right, I got it, 2B." He's speaking, facing his pod, but there's nothing there that I can see. "No. No, I'm in the area. I'll be there right away." He flinches. "Yeah, yeah. On my way."

I stand offside and watch.

He turns away from his pod with a sigh. "Shit, I am not in the area. Pod, do I have an anti-scold shield in my inventory?"

Pod 153 says, "Negative. Joke has also been denied."

"You're laughing internally."

He seemed to be speaking to 2B somehow. I couldn't hear her. Is it like how his sword sometimes goes invisible?

"Were you talking to 2B?" I raise on my toes and then drop. I want to talk to her, too, but that's impossible given the circumstances. We're all supposed to stay away from each other, after all.

A funny feeling swishes in my stomach. It's like when I don't play with the children or Pascal is disappointed in me.

"Yeah." 9S gestures to his pod.

"How could you talk to her? I didn't hear or see anything."

He taps the blindfold. "My visor."

"Visor?" Oh, so that's what that thing is. He seems to be able to see through it, but not the other way around. If I ask to try it on, will he say no?

"I've gotta go," he says.

My throat tightens. "What?"

"I have to resume gathering intel on the machines. Not that I mind—it's necessary—but I'd rather analyse you." He fixates on me.

I flush and swallow back a laugh. He looks so serious.

He swipes his hand across the air—probably at something else I can't see. "2B's ready to blow up the Resistance camp looking for me. Hey. Don't tell anyone we met, okay?"

"You'll come back?"

"Is that a serious question?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?"

"Because isn't it obvious?" His smile is friendly. "There's a lot I want to talk with you about."

Me too. Me too. Me too.

He takes off and I wish I was fast enough to follow.

But he leaves me in the dust again.

* * *

**AN:** Hi guys! Someone mentioned the short chapter format made them sad (okay, I'm paraphrasing), so here's a chapter that's a little longer (even if it's filled with 9S and Ribbon just being dorks...)


	8. Chapter 8

**8.**

Pascal glances at me. "Ribbon, what is it? You have been staring at me for five minutes."

I'm not even embarrassed the way I would be if, say, 2B caught me staring at her like a star struck moron. Focussing my attention on Pascal isn't invasive or awkward or captivating. It's just . . . staring at Pascal.

"Sorry." But I know it's rude, so. "I was just zoned out."

"I see. You have been spacey lately." Pascal's trying to grow tomatoes. He's standing in his little garden of failure. For whatever reason, he can't seem to get them to appear. "Whatever could be troubling you?"

I'm sitting in the dirt, legs folded. I grab my feet and rock back and forth. I've been trying to ask Pascal about my origins for the last three days. I wake up full of ambient determination ready to spring the question on him. What am I, Pascal? Why don't I operate in any way like a machine if I am one?

I'm so different. Too different. It's illogical.

My throat gets clogged and it's like my airwaves constrict and I can't get the words out.

And it's not because it might be true that I'm a human.

Instead, Pascal might have a very good explanation for all the discrepancies both 9S and I have discovered about myself. Pascal could have the answer: Ribbon, you are a machine and here is proof.

And if I get that proof, I will not be the thing 9S and 2B yearn for.

I don't want to know.

I don't want 9S to stop visiting me.

I gaze out into the trees. Was that—?

"Ribbon?"

I hesitate.

"Are you okay?"

I scramble to get up. "Yes. I've just been restless. I'm gonna go explore for a bit, Pascal."

"Oh, I see. Well, do not go too far, okay?"

"Sure." I dart out of the garden and into the trees, my pulse hammering.

Ah!

Pod 153 is hovering between two twining trees.

I hurry after it.

9S is here.

I'm going as fast as I can but I'm still slow. Until 9S put me to shame I thought I really fast. I mean, not compared to animals, but I was fast. How am I supposed to impress androids if I'm a flop?

The trees whiz by me.

I want to be faster and stronger and smarter.

I want to be equal to 9S and 2B.

I don't care if I'm a machine or a human or a deer. I only want to be whatever will bring me closer to 9S and 2B.

Pod 153 stops and I slow beside it.

"It's still weird to see."

I tip my head back and there he is. 9S' head pops up from above. He's here. My stomach tightens and my heart slams against my rib cage in painful thuds.

He's on a moss covered boulder. He's leaning over, holding his bag so it doesn't fall in front of himself. Sunlight streams in shredded gold across the spot he has found for us.

"What is weird to see?" Why do I have to be out of breath from running? Can't I be flawless like an android? He's going to think I'm an idiot if I'm panting like some deranged bovine animal.

9S reaches down. "You talking to machines like that. The machines, maybe those very ones, killed your kind."

I don't like those words but I like 9S, so I reach up. He grabs my wrist and tugs with an ease that startles me. He hauls me up onto the boulder with him and I stagger.

He catches me with a happy, "Oops."

It's not really a boulder, after all, but a small plateau. We're near the crevice that dives deep. If I ask 9S to take me down there to go exploring one day, will he? What would we find?

9S has one hand on my chest. "You've exerted yourself? Look at your breathing! Ribbon, look at you _breathe._"

Does he have to be enthralled about my fatigue? I take a few steps towards the edge and 9S grabs me by the back of the shirt.

"Nuh uh. You're like a blind cub. Stay away from there."

"I'm not gonna fall." I spin around and he lets go. Is that what he thinks of me? "But—but you came back."

"Yeah, of course." He grins. "Were you worried?"

My ears heat up. "No."

"Did you ask Pascal about yourself?"

I freeze, and then dawdle a little ways away. "Oh. Well, not really, no. I was busy."

His gaze follows me. "Busy?"

"Yeah."

"Too many rabbits to count?"

I don't say anything.

He grins again. He's joking. Playing. I'm so happy he's not angry. I'm so happy he's just here.

I go back to him and hold out my hand and wiggle my fingers.

He hesitates. "What is it, Ribbon?"

"Um, contact."

He frowns and then takes my hand.

I'm not sure why the coldness of him makes me lightheaded. When machines touch me it's a bit irksome. They don't feel pleasant and sometimes they're uncoordinated. Once Roger gave me his version of a hug which was him just slamming himself into me and he made my nose bleed.

But 9S has hands like mine.

We're both looking at our hands with disquieted expressions.

"It's supposed to be done like this." 9S slips his fingers between mine, wiggling and intertwining. "Like so." He presses our palms flat together and it's all very snug.

It fits, so this might be right. "I've read in old books that humans hold hands to show affection or support."

"Yeah, I guess so."

We stare at our hands.

"So, this is holding hands," I say. This is my first time and although it's so simple and it isn't much, it fills me with an odd sense of humility. The reason I've never done this with machine life forms isn't because they won't. They may want to do stuff like this, but they can't.

They can't understand.

It's not their fault.

I've been looking down on them. I'm not a nice person, am I?

"Yup." 9S tugs his hand. "Oh. We're not done?"

I hold on firmer. "Why do we have to be done?"

He makes a hmm-ing noise. "Anyway, how come you want to show 'affection' or 'support' towards me?"

I blink at him. 9S isn't usually dense.

He says, "I mean, humans are meant to view androids in a methodical way, aren't they? We aren't seen as 'humans' despite our appearances, but more like tools."

"Tools?"

"Essentially, we're just weapons. It's the androids who honour the humans, not the other way around."

I'm meant to look down on androids, too?

Why?

"Well, huh? I don't know if I 'honour' you, 9S, but I really like you and you're fun and you're fascinating. I think about you all the time and I even dream about you."

He starts to furiously shake his hand, which in turn shakes mine—and my entire arm, really.

I hold on tighter. "Jeez, 9S, what are you doing? Is it a bug?"

His hand relaxes. "Ah, stop it."

"You almost dislocated my shoulder. Stop what?"

"Are you done?"

"Huh? Why do I have to be done?"

He dips his head and doesn't say anything.

Is he mad?

I let go and he starts.

He flexes his fingers. "I don't know how to react when a human says he likes me like an equal—and, er, all that other stuff that I won't dare recall because there's not near enough bandwidth down here for me to do a full system restore on myself without glitching to all hell."

What? Is he broken?

He takes in a breath and goes quiet.

"What's a full system restore?"

"Oh. When an android dies, if possible and under premeditated conditions, we need to do a system restore. It's like backing up and retrieving our data so we can—"

"What? But you aren't dying, 9S."

He kicks at some shrubs growing between the rocks. "Well, maybe not die, but I'm afraid I might malfunction or something."

"Well, what do you do if you malfunction?"

"A whole lot of maintenance."

"What kind of maintenance?"

He pauses, looks at me, and then looks away. "Huh. Good question."

Not surprisingly, androids are complex.

I did understand one thing during his weird ramble, at least. "So, 9S? You want to be equals, too?"

He holds out his hands. "I wouldn't suggest—"

"Well, honestly, then you gotta stop being so good at stuff. I can't catch up with you if you're literally leaving me in the dust."

His hands fall to his side. "You . . . catch up to me?"

"Yeah?"

"Like I'm the one who's ahead?"

"Yeah."

He takes a stride towards me, sets both hands on my shoulders, and then shakes me a few times. "Don't you know what you are to androids, Ribbon? Why are you saying such illogical things?"

I stable myself.

He lets go and rubs his face. "Really."

He wants me to look down on him. He's uncomfortable when I don't. What a bizarre dynamic, but at least I'm piecing him together.

"I don't get it, but can we hold hands again?" My voice is so light he might see through it.

He sighs and holds out his hand.

Happy, I grab his hand and try to wedge our fingers together. It feels different this time.

"Not like that." He unlinks our fingers, repositions, and does it properly. "There."

We stand in silence.

"You know, this might shock you, but I did not come here to hold hands." His tone is wry.

Oh, right. There are purposes for him to come here other than to just play. He plays because I want to.

But then—why did he come here again?

He said he wanted to know more about me. Is he going to ask me to go to the place he's from? He has a headquarters and there are a bunch of other androids at that place. I don't know if I can handle a bunch of androids. 9S is already consuming enough. 2B, too. I dream about her a weird amount still and I haven't even seen her in a while, so how many dreams am I going to have if I know, say, ten more androids?

Hundreds more?

I can't. How will I keep track of all of them?

Then again, it could be like the machine village. I'm not overwhelmed by them. I have a few I play with more than others.

Right. What am I thinking so basic for?

Of course I'm wrapped up in 9S and 2B. They are the first androids I've ever met and they'll always be bigger in my life than any others. It's how things go, isn't it?

"Okay, Ribbon, we're gonna focus," 9S says. "No distracting me, okay? We're holding hands and _that's it._"

I nod. "Right."

"You didn't ask Pascal about yourself?"

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

"I was meaning to."

"But?"

"I thought, maybe, if I really am a machine and Pascal proves it—I thought—maybe you won't come visit me anymore?"

His shoulders slump. "That isn't even an option to worry about, Ribbon."

"Well."

"Do you really believe you are a machine?"

"I—"

He waits.

"I don't know."

He clicks his tongue. "The strength of humans is their intellect. After all, humans created androids, and although androids seem superior in many ways physically, the fact remains that we would not exist without humankind's intelligence."

I scratch my elbow.

"I'm saying you are smart enough to know you are not a machine. Whatever brainwashing they did to you, it's—"

"If I am not a machine, I don't think Pascal told me that out of bad intentions."

We lock eyes.

It's the first time I've made a concrete statement under the consideration I'm human. Maybe he senses this because he doesn't speak at once, and we stand in silence. It's like he's giving me time, like he knows I just need to absorb for a second.

It's a connection.

A connection I could never get from a machine life form.

I could get addicted to connections like this. If I'm not already.

9S opens his mouth, and then closes it. "That—that may be the part I'm most conflicted about."

Above, the trees rustle and an owl hoots.

"I don't understand Pascal. His uncanny actions are why we're tasked with investigating him. He seems to be a pacifist and he has kept you alive. Ignorant, but alive." He has a very incisive gaze when he's focused on something—and that something is me. "Why would a machine life form keep a human alive? How does that benefit him?"

"Well, he has no ill intentions towards me, or humans, or androids."

9S reaches back and his spear materialises. It spins in a lazy circle next to him. "Can that kind of peace exist in a machine? In something created solely for warfare?"

"If there's a machine that wants peace, it's Pascal."

9S flicks a smile on and off. "I'd like to think that, but keep in mind you're biased, Ribbon."

"Well, I think Pascal has been keeping me safe, so Pascal keeping a human safe—if I am one—would be enough evidence he does not wish to kill me, right? Killing me would be a bit contradictory."

We fall into another silence. His spear vanishes only to be replaced by a thin black sword. His weapons don't look friendly, which is a silly thought, because they are weapons. Of course they aren't nice things.

But 2B had a beautiful sword, even though it was sharp and scary. 9S carries stuff out of a novel about curses or demons or something. They look like stuff that needs to be sealed far, far away.

"Um, 9S?"

He glances at me.

"How—um—how is 2B doing?"

"2B? She's okay." His weapon changes for a third time. It hovers next to his back—two giant, circular things. They look like they have animal faces and I've no idea what they are. Does he throw them at machines?

Oh. He's doing it absent mindedly. Cycling through weapons. Maybe it in some way calms him?

"She came to see me," I say.

He jolts. "She what?"

"Well, she came to see Pascal and found me, too."

He puts a hand to his chest. "Ribbon, don't do that!"

"What? Don't do what?"

He shakes his head. "Never mind. What did she say to you?"

"She told me to discourage you from seeing me."

"She knows I've been here?"

"Well, that was technically before we met again, but I'm sure she'd say the same thing."

"So she suspects I'd come here. I guess it's obvious."

I grin. "Looks like she knows you well."

He regards me without saying anything.

"I want to know you well, too. 2B, too, but that seems inconceivable."

He continues to regard me.

My palm gets clammy against his. "Um, right? Because she's really against this, and stuff?" Why's he just looking at me? Why can't I open him up and find his thoughts? Really, why can't he have a manual? An android like 9S needs a manual.

He leans in, slow. "Hey, Ribbon? Did 2B say why she didn't want me to talk to you?" The first time we met he did something like this. His mannerisms and his voice became almost sly.

But also, when we all first met, 2B said it straight to him. Do not stray. He knows the reason but maybe he does not understand the repercussions?

I can't help him with that because I don't understand the repercussions. Most I understood was bad stuff happens when androids stray from Command's orders.

"She told you, didn't she?" My voice is a little high pitched for some reason. "Something about your command not telling you about humans, and there's a reason for that, and that reason should be, um, respected, or—"

"But that's irrelevant."

"Huh?"

"Androids are made to protect humans. How can I protect humans if I don't know about them on Earth?"

I swallow. "I don't know, 9S, but—"

"I understand Command withholding classified information, as much as it frustrates me, but why would this be classified?"

My throat is really dry. I don't know. I don't know.

"And why is 2B so accepting of that?"

"She's worried about you, I think."

He falters.

I haven't seen 2B much but I can't forget how conflicted she seemed back in the fog that day. She spoke about losing something she really, really treasures.

By hanging out with 9S, will we eventually unravel what she's protecting?

I don't know, and in a strange way, I don't care because caring would mean I would have to listen to her and stop being around 9S.

And I refuse to do that.

But I don't want him to be mad at her.

"I don't really know the details, because I'm just piddly old me, but she sounded like she was protecting you."

"Protecting?" His voice is dust.

"Yeah. Don't you think so?"

His free hand goes to the collar around his neck, and it's such an odd, vulnerable gesture. I don't understand it. I don't understand much, but I get that there's something about 2B and 9S' relationship that is way beyond my comprehension.

He drops his hand and his smile is strange. "I don't know, Ribbon, but to me, not knowing something is one of the worst feelings I could have. I need to know."

"Oh!" I grin. "I know all about that. I want to explode sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"I was realising all the things I don't know and I hated it. It's smothering. I feel like I'm in a box and I can't get out and there's no one around me who will let me out to just learn and know and stuff." I wrinkle my nose. "I don't know if it's true, exactly. I mean, Pascal teaches me all sorts of stuff and lets me read a bunch, but things like who I am—if that's a lie—then maybe the most important stuff is being withheld? And that really, really bothers me."

He peers at me and my ears heat up again.

"Yes." He sounds faraway. "Yes, it's the important things that are deliberately kept a secret."

"Yes!"

Another strange smile. He leans back and pulls our fingers apart. Having his hand gone is weird. We talked while holding hands to the point where I wasn't registering it anymore—and it felt like nothing—the contact was simply an extension of myself—where we met and ended didn't matter.

"I really should stay away from you."

"What?" There's no way he can do that. I won't let him.

"But we both know I'm not going to do that." His head drops and he gives a little laugh. "I've definitely gotta know."

"Gotta know?"

"Yeah, Ribbon. Let's talk to Pascal together. Let's find out what you really are, and why you are here."

* * *

**AN:** can I get a FINALLY.


	9. Chapter 9

**9.**

Pascal already has big, round eyes, but if they could widen any further, I am sure they would.

9S and I approached him together and now we're standing beside him like it's the perfectly natural thing to do.

"Oh, my." Pascal is frozen for a moment, but then he begins to shoo the children around him away. "Later, we'll play later, okay?"

Half the children cling to Pascal and half cling to me. They tug at my clothes.

"It's Ribbon! Play with us, Ribbon."

I push them off. "I can't right now."

They whine but eventually disperse to do their own thing.

I turn to 9S but whatever I'm about to say dies on my tongue. He's staring at me with an expression I've yet to see him wear. It's almost spooked.

Is seeing machines interacting with me like this that disturbing to him?

He snaps out of it. "Mind talking in private, you freaky machine?" 9S sounds like he's joking but he might not be.

I lean away. I've never really heard anyone talk to Pascal like that. Everyone here talks to him with wonder and respect. Well, the children are a bit brattier, but 9S does not seem to really like Pascal much.

I guess he doesn't trust machines, but . . .

"Hi, Pascal." I feel like I have done something terrible, but I haven't. Have I? "I met 9S."

"I see that." Pascal does not seem to know how to proceed.

9S looks back and forth between Pascal and I. "Anywhere we can chat?"

Pascal is quiet a moment. "Yes, inside. Inside." He makes his way to our house, the one we share which isn't much. One room for him and one room for me. Pascal's side is bare except for books scattered around while my room is similar, but I've got my blankets and a change of clothes and a bunch of nuts and berries I snack on.

I make a seat for 9S out of books. I remember reading about human hospitality and one important thing is to make others comfortable when they visit your home. So this is like that. 9S is visiting my home.

We all sit.

"So." 9S' voice has an edge to it. He has drawn his sword and it hovers behind him.

"9S!" My own voice startles me.

They both look at me.

I flush. "Put that away. Don't point that at Pascal."

9S obeys immediately. His sword vanishes.

Right. Because I'm a human? My face gets hotter. He listened to me, just like that.

9S looks away, his jaw tight. "So, ask."

"Uh. Um, yeah." I shift. "Pascal. Pascal—I'm not—I'm not a machine, am I?"

"Oh, dear." Pascal's rickety fingers fidget. "This is quite complicated."

"You think?" 9S looks at the ceiling. "What are you playing at? Is Ribbon some kind of hostage for you? If you've done anything to this human, I will destroy every last machine in this run down village."

My mouth pops open.

"9S." I push my foot against his boot. I've got to remember androids and machines aren't friendly. I've grown up with Pascal. He raised me with the other machines but 9S had no such experience. He's a soldier and from what I've learned about him, it's all he has known.

But I don't want him threatening Pascal or the village.

"Oh, my. No, I have done no such thing, 9S. Please understand I have nothing but the best intentions for Ribbon." Pascal sets his hands in his lap. "We have had a good relationship with you and 2B thus far, so . . . 9S, please do not threaten the children. They have done nothing wrong."

9S' eyebrows rise. "Machines? Nothing wrong? Your kind has driven Ribbon's kind to near extinction, and you wanna tell me—"

I push harder, stepping on 9S' foot, and he cuts himself off.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

I clear my throat. "Pascal, uh, basically I want to know what I am and why I am here."

"I am sorry, Ribbon, that I couldn't stop the androids from finding you." Pascal is speaking in his usual gentle tone, but it sounds sadder somehow.

9S twitches. "What?"

"I did not want you to be dragged into war, is all. It is nothing against androids, 9S."

"You think a human is better off in machine hands? Am I processing this right?"

"It is not a matter of machines or androids. It is a matter of the environment. My village is peaceful and I wished for Ribbon to grow up knowing peace, even if it cannot last."

"By raising him like this, you've made him completely defenseless," 9S snaps. "This is a world full of killing. You've basically raised him in a mine field without teaching him how to avoid the mines!" 9S' sword is back out—not aimed at Pascal, but visible. "He is not equipped for reality. How can you—" He stops to take in a breath. "How could a machine even perceive they have the intelligence—or the _right_—to raise a human?"

I swallow.

What is this?

I wanted to know how I got here but there's more to it than that.

My stomach feels raw. I didn't really think 9S and Pascal had much to talk about. Why didn't I think there was politics to all this that would go over my head?

This is a world full of killing, 9S said. Maybe 9S' reaction to machines is more acceptable than mine. Which one of us is valid? Can it be both? It can, can't it?

Why not?

He's really fascinating and I can't take my eyes off him.

He's talking on my behalf. Am I supposed to feel what he is feeling? If I was more informed, would I understand his emotional state and would I feel it too?

Pascal has done nothing personal to 9S, and yet 9S is still upset.

Humans do this, I know. So androids do, too. Empathy. Machines aren't good at it, but it comes natural to 9S.

He is feeling things on . . . my behalf?

9S catches me staring and maybe he thinks I'm mad because he settles down a little.

"Um, but." I clear my throat again. I have to control myself. "But how did I get here? If I am a human, where did I come from? Where are the other humans?"

Pascal is quiet.

I wait.

"Well, you see," Pascal says, "I found you nearby."

9S shifts and his jacket brushes my shoulder.

"There were other humans around," Pascal continues, "but they were all dead."

My spine tingles.

Oh.

So there were others.

"Dead?"

"Killed by machines, most likely. I am sorry. You were the only one I found alive. And . . . each human had a ribbon around their wrist with a number on it."

I touch my wrist even though the ribbon has long been removed.

"We burned all traces of the human bodies because we did not want anyone—machine or android—to find out we had a human in our village."

"Why did you take Ribbon?" 9S asks.

"Because he was a child, alone, without a way to survive on his own. A victim of this senseless war."

My first memory. Being held by something cold and kind.

Pascal took me in like that. My real family's dead. Killed by the same kind of species that saved me.

That's—

That's hard to grasp. It shouldn't be hard to grasp, but it is. I've always thought of machines and androids in simplistic terms, like "androids are bad," but among androids, I've made a friend. Machines killed my family, but I've been raised around machines that are also my friends.

Within every group are individuals. It's easy to generalise, but I can't do that anymore.

I can't keep being so naive.

It's like 9S said. The world isn't peaceful or quiet like this village. I have to snap out of the fairytale I've been living in.

"You took in a human even though the sole reason for your existence is to kill humans?" 9S cocks his head. "You want to tell me you have some kind of emotional intelligence that can override your own written code?"

"Since we have disconnected from the network, 9S, unimaginable things have occurred." Pascal spreads his arms. "Like this village. We have made peace with the Resistance, even if it is thin, and we are trying to make peace with YoHRa as well."

9S goes to speak but his pod floats in front of him and he stops.

"Unusual vital activity detected within 9S' emotional regulation facilities. Proposal: 9S should remove himself from the situation in order to reestablish a calm connection."

9S starts. "I—"

"It is alright, 9S. The village and myself aren't going anywhere. You are welcome to speak to me anytime," Pascal says.

9S stands. "Ribbon, come with me."

9S leaves without another word.

"Um, can I?" I half-stand.

Pascal titters. "You don't need to ask me, do you, Ribbon?"

I've always asked Pascal for permission for things, but lately I've been going off on my own. Maybe now that the truth is out, our relationship has changed.

I pass Pascal, then stop and retrace my steps. I lean down and hug him.

"Oh, my. It is always a shock, how warm you are." Pascal's thin arms come around me.

I pull back. "I don't know why 9S is _this_ upset."

"You will, one day, and by then I hope you understand where I'm coming from too."

We let go. Well, I could never yell at Pascal.

I hurry after 9S.

I can tell the direction he went because the machines are all facing the left. I hurry that way and spot 9S at the edge of the village, staring into the trees.

"9S." I stop beside him.

My stomach lurches.

He has removed the blindfold. His eyes are bright and blue and beautiful—eyes defined by human characteristics like emotions, intelligence, thought. He looks more real now, like if I were to grab hold of him there wouldn't be the chance for him to slip away like particles in my hand. He's not going anywhere and that makes me so happy I could puke.

He speaks like he's in a daze. "No matter how many times terrible things happen, this feeling comes back. A human, who I never thought I'd meet, and now: a pacifist machine. A machine who not only refrains from killing humans, but who saved one. If Pascal had not saved you, I'd have never met you."

I sway from side to side, teasing. "Pascal's pretty cool, huh?"

"How can I feel thankful towards a machine? Every instinct is telling me I am being deceived because this cannot possibly be true, and yet—again, it's that stupid feeling. Hope, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter what happens, no matter what shit we have to go through, is hope just something we come armed with?"

9S is full of words and wonders that the machines around me may never possess, and it's because of this I want to spend all the time in the world with him.

Although hearing him talk like this terrifies me because one day, inevitably, I'll understand what he's saying.

"I always thought the road to peace was eliminating all machines. Believing in a future where there is peace between humans, androids, and machine life forms is for suicidal idiots." He drops his head and shuts his eyes tight. "Why am I such a suicidal idiot? Even though I know better? Why am I like this?"

I tense and grab his arm, tighter than I mean to. "I like how you are!"

His laugh is quiet. "That's not the issue, Ribbon."

"But it's true, anyway. Why are you sad when you should be happy?" I tug on him and he makes a startled sound. "9S, Pascal's a good guy and I haven't been mistreated and everything worked out okay, didn't it? Then why are you staring off into the trees like another machine just stole your favourite foot and ran off with it? I mean—if you were a machine, you could relate to that." I let go of him. "I'm bad at this."

He grins, but it's forced. "Are _you_ okay, Ribbon?"

I falter. "What? Sure."

He regards me.

I shrug. "I mean, I think so."

"See?" He sets a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "We're similar. We've both just had some serious belief-shattering happen, right? You know how it feels to have the ground disappear from beneath you."

I'm happy, I think. I'm happy because being a human means 9S and 2B and even all the other androids will want me. I'm happy because the contact and connections I've been craving won't stop. It won't stop.

"Ah, I gotta get back to the camp." His hand falls.

My chest spikes. "Wait. Wait, can't you stay a bit?"

"I can't stay."

"You can sleep here." I grab onto him, hugging his arm to me, and he tenses.

He wriggles. "Sleep? Surrounded by a village of weirdo machines?" He laughs. "Uh, no thanks."

I cling.

"Ribbon." He wrestles me off. "Please."

Right, he gets funny when I touch him too much. Whatever. I latch back on. "I don't want you to go."

He lets out a breath against my ear. "Ribbon."

"Don't go."

He stiffens, and then relaxes.

We are both quiet as I clutch onto him.

"Okay." It's like the word has been wrenched out of him.

I take a step back.

Oh.

I ordered him.

He won't meet my gaze. His ears are red, like mine get.

"No, never mind." I hear myself say the words before I register them. "You'll get in trouble."

What was I doing, begging him to stay?

_He'll get hurt._

Judging by 2B's solemnity, the repercussions of him getting caught isn't a wrist slap. I'm understanding that now.

He straightens his jacket. "Yeah, there would be huge repercussions."

"Ugh, then don't give into me!" I wave my hands. "I'm just being spoiled."

He grins and finally looks at me. "So you realise it?"

I grin back but inside it's like something is trying to scratch its way out of me.

Didn't I just decide not to be naive? Isn't clinging to 9S like a sappy child naive?

In order to keep him around me I have to be tactful.

"What about if I said I wanted to go back with you? To the camp or the Bunker or wherever?"

"Do you?"

"Eventually, yeah, I think so. I can't stay in this village. I'm a human, after all."

He nods and takes a step away.

"You'll come back?" I ask.

"Yeah, of course. In the meantime, can you do something for me?"

"Yes?"

"That ribbon with the number on it Pascal mentioned." He holds up his hand and taps his wrist. "If it's still around, can you find it for me? I want to see if I can analyse it. It might lead to answers or even other humans."

"Okay!"

He hops down the wooden planks that serve as steps. The further he gets the more the scratching intensifies.

I sit down.

He waves and I wave.

The wind ruffles the leaves of the trees, making them hiss and whisper.

He was going to stay.

He was going to listen to me despite knowing the chaos it would cause. Androids are designed to protect humans. He's designed to protect me even at the cost of his own social system collapsing. Should I call it that? Or should I call it his chain of command? Little red specks dance in my vision and my breathing speeds up.

I nibble at my thumb nail, flicking it against my teeth, and fixate on the spot in the woods he disappeared into.

If I wanted to, I could make 9S stay with me forever.

I bite until I taste blood. I pull my hand away with a surprised sound. I've never done that before.

I suck at the blood, perturbed.

What am I doing?

I don't know how long I sit for. None of the machines approach me, which is unusual. Pascal maybe asked them to give me space.

Well. I'm not a machine, after all.

I curl up, pushing my forehead into my knees until there's pain. It feels like I've lost something really important while simultaneously gaining something wonderful.

In my head, something's stitching and unstitching like tedious needlework—in, out, looping and catching.

* * *

**AN:** On a less creepy note, all the Finally's! in the reviews had me laughing so hard! You guys are the best :b


	10. Chapter 10

**10.**

Every time 9S visits an energy buzzes through me—electric and wild—but it's also terrifying because it feels like, at any moment, that current may snap and the dream will end.

He comes every three days or so.

Sometimes we sit and talk. He tells me about the Bunker, where he's from, and how the androids operate. Sometimes he brings objects like puzzles and asks me to complete them. He inputs data into his pod while I work away. I don't mind so much because 9S' full attention is on me while I do the tasks.

I don't ask to play tag or hide and seek anymore, but sometimes I suggest we just lay down in the grass and do nothing. My mind is always abuzz with questions and we often overlap when we're trying to talk because—I think—he's the same.

I found the ribbon with the numbers on them—or, rather, Pascal still had it—and 9S has it now. He said he's gonna work on pinpointing its details. When he first held the ribbon he ran his thumb over the numbers with a transfixed expression and I got the feeling it meant more to him than to me, even though it was mine.

Today, we've gone past the river to a spot in the trees we often go to. It's a little clearing, but it's thick with brush and foliage and it kind of hides us.

"Pascal tells me you and 2B have been helping out some machines around the village." I am tossing a rock in the air and catching it. "He said you used to help out even before I met you."

"Yeah, yeah." He is poking around the air near his pod. "Some are just so pitiful it's hard not to help."

"You realise you've actually potentially saved machines, kinda like they saved me?" I toss too high and lose sight of the stone. Crap. I beeline away to not get hit.

"Well, if something isn't hostile and if it's asking for help . . . even if it's a creepy, clingy machine . . ."

The sound of the stone dropping—hitting another rock—makes me flinch. Could've been my head. "The children like you and 2B. They keep asking Pascal when you're coming back."

He flinches and keeps tapping near his pod.

I come up behind him, tug at his collar, and dip my hand down. He shrugs and steps away, but I follow. I graze the back of his neck and he laughs and clamps a hand down over my hand.

I know what it is when he reacts like this. It's part fear, part sensation brought on from a light, fleeting touch. It's something called a "ticklish" reaction and everyone has different spots of sensitivity. Usually, in humans, it's vulnerable spots like the wrists, ankles, abdomen, feet. It's surprising this response was transferred to androids, but maybe it's because it is a protective mechanism.

9S reacts when I go near his neck.

He removes my hand and I know what he's going to say next.

"Ribbon, I know you like to play, but—"

I speak along with him, in unison: "We need to focus on something today."

His shoulders slump. He cuffs me upside the head and I grin.

Androids have a lot of sides.

9S can be childish, curious, strict, irritable, insistent, playful, shy, sharp, or—

Serious, like today.

"You know, since I met you, I've kind of understood what I put my operator through." He's back at his pod.

He has mentioned his operator before. She is like 2B in that she is similar to being a partner, but she never goes to the "surface" and supports him with orders and intel from the Bunker. According to 9S, his operator would be excited to meet me. I think I'd like to meet her too, soon.

Whenever 9S asks me if I'd like to go back with him, I say, "Not yet," and he never pushes it.

At first I didn't understand myself. Why am I prolonging it? Why does my stomach churn at the thought of going with him? Don't I want to be with him and 2B and the other androids?

But we both know, don't we?

The current will snap. The dream will end.

He sweeps his arm and I take a hopping step backwards.

An entire inventory of weapons appears. Weapons I've never seen before are all lined up behind him. Ones larger than me, axes, spears—bright ones and dark, odd shapes and simple designs. He walks the length of them, boots crunching some fallen leaves as he goes.

"Try some of these, Ribbon." He gestures to the selection.

Why does he have so many?

How many ways can he possibly kill something?

I inch closer. "Why, 9S?"

"You need to be able to defend yourself."

"Against . . ."

"Hostile machine life forms. You are aware that machines outside the village aren't peaceful."

"Yeah, but even if I had a weapon I could never kill something."

He frowns. "You better if your life is in danger. Remember when I aimed my spear at you and you did nothing?" His voice goes hard. "None of that. You need to attack to protect yourself."

I've never met machines outside of the village. The only outsiders I've met are 9S and 2B. I've never considered killing something before. Wouldn't trying to kill a machine be like trying to kill my friends?

I make a doubtful sound. "9S, I don't think I can."

He glances at me. "Once you've gone back to the Bunker with me, YoHRa will no doubt protect you. But just in case, you gotta have some kind of defense."

I fidget.

A grin crosses his face and he points at a large sword that is probably my exact height and width. "Try picking that up."

I approach the sword. It has a beast's face embedded in it. I frown. "9S. That thing is heavier than me. How can—?"

9S laughs and stumbles away. "I totally thought you were gonna try."

"You were trying to trick me?"

He comes up behind me and pushes me. I stagger forward.

"Hey! Why would you trick me?"

He laughs into his shoulder. "I wanted to analyse your reaction to an obvious failure. The blood tends to rush to your face and you get agitated and flustered, but maybe, the more you fail, the less it'll affect you?" He stands beside me now and we survey the weapons together. "Just like how a human gains muscle through physical exertion, humans also experience mental strengthening the more they fail, provided those failures are in small stages and not overwhelming. It's developing 'mental resilience'."

I take in a deep breath. It's hard to focus. Is he gonna set me up to fail from now on until this experiment is done?

He is grinning his face off though. Is this for knowledge or fun?

I thought he was in a serious mood but he's the one who wants to play. Dummy.

We stand for a while longer. Well, obviously a smaller weapon, then. Something light. I side eye 9S.

He laughs again and pushes me again. "Hurry up."

"Hey!" I try to shove him back but he steps out of the way without a care.

"Aw." He pokes me in the side and I yelp. "Are you mad at me?"

"N-no."

"You're pouting." He pokes my other side.

I jump away. "9S! Stop it!" I'm torn between wanting to laugh with him and wanting to tug his hair out. "I know you want to gather intel on me, but do you have to be mean about it?"

He grasps me, so sudden I cry out. "Androids are programmed to be a certain way but we can defy orders. Did you know? Some androids even desert their posts."

I blink.

"Humans are way more versatile, though. A human can actually change their personality if they condition themselves right. I mean, not entirely. Humans have genetics that govern them to a point, but if a human is shy, they can put themselves in situations where they have to stand up against that and basically 'get over' it." He pulls me closer. "Or if a human wants to become more compassionate, they expose themselves to unpleasant stimuli that will invoke certain emotional responses. It's like choosing their own experiences and practising. Isn't it fascinating?"

"Oh, it's—"

"But most humans actually refrain from doing so. That's baffling. Humans are naturally afraid of change because it causes discomfort—which is ironic because humans actually thrive when they are not comfortable. Being comfortable is actually counterproductive even though it feels good, and—"

He freezes.

He lets go. "Ah. I'm sorry. I got way too excited."

I stand with my hands lax at my sides.

He gestures to the weapons, solemn.

I reach, a little dizzy, for the back of his neck. He catches my arm and twists me around.

I snap out of it.

"Focus." He speaks to the back of my head.

"You're the one playing!"

"Nope, not sure what you're blabbing about. Choose a weapon already." But he's half laughing the words out.

I make a frustrated sound in the back of my throat and grab the lightest looking sword. It's black and white and well used with a jagged blade that looks more suited to tearing than slicing. It's not too heavy. I can lift it without too much trouble, but holding this for a while would get tiring.

"That's called Faith. Do you like it?" 9S asks.

"Like it?" I shrug. "I guess?"

"Well, pick one you like."

My attention falls on the strange black sword. I touch its handle.

"That's Cruel Oath. It's my favourite, but you can borrow it if you like."

"How come they have names?"

"Hmm, not sure. Maybe to familiarise?" He scratches his head. "Typically, we use a weapon we resonate with. I'm a weapon that uses a weapon, so . . . it's like equipping an extra function to myself?"

I hand 9S Faith and take Cruel Oath. Apart of himself. The sword is unsettling but 9S likes it, resonates with it, and so I like it too. It's 9S' favourite so I'll make it my favourite, too, even if it makes me queasy.

"I want this, then." I can keep a part of him with me.

"Sure." He takes the sword from me and the weapons in front of us all disappear at the same time. "I'll show you how to use it."

* * *

It is strange.

At first, when 9S takes me to a place where he says machines often appear, I am sick to my stomach. He means to kill machines in front of me. That's how he plans to "show" me.

The thought of it makes my hair stand on end, makes my blood cold, makes me want to scream at him to stop. I don't want to see this. Please, I don't want to see this.

But when a machine does appear, red-eyed and spastic, flailing towards 9S with the intent to kill—and he turns without much concern and kills it with a quick swipe of the sword, I feel next to nothing.

More and more come, and 9S clears them.

It's the oddest thing.

It's like I don't register that these wild, hateful machines are even alive.

They aren't the same as the machines in the village. These ones attack 9S without hesitation. They come in droves. These are the types of machines that must've killed my family. The ones that brought humans to near extinction. The ones that make 9S the soldier he is.

When 9S is finished, he turns to me. "You okay?"

Maybe I look some kind of way. I make myself smile. "Yeah. They were trying to kill you, right?" I don't like the thought of 9S getting hurt by one of those. I don't like it at all.

"Yeah."

Then, yes. They can die.

9S inspects Cruel Oath, running his hand along it. "You have to make sure you can defend yourself against that, Ribbon."

Right.

They will kill me, too. They were focused on 9S because he was the direct threat, but if he hadn't been here they'd come after me unprovoked.

He stops in front of me and holds out the sword. "So, take this and practice."

I don't want to be naive anymore. I take the sword. It's a pretty disturbing sword—very basic, if I break down its appearance—but there's just something unsettling about it. But that's okay, because this is part of the real world, the world outside of my peaceful, fairytale village.

"But, 9S, you weren't holding it." I don't know why my voice is shaking.

He falters. "Oh! Right." He rubs his forehead. "Sorry. You'll obviously have to use your hands. I use my head."

He never touched the hilt of the sword once when fighting. He controlled the sword somehow. This is unique to androids. It's so cool I wish I could do it too, but I know I'm not capable, just like I can't move as fast or leap as high or swing as hard.

We spend the rest of our time together with the sword. 9S teaches me how to swing it and how to aim, how to move it to get the best strength behind it. He tells me to go for the weaker spots on machines because I'm likely not strong enough to blast through the whole parts. I'm supposed to aim for the connections between body parts—taking off their heads, ideally, and then stab down into their exposed neck, to their core.

My arms are sore and trembling by the end of the day and 9S reminds me humans get stronger through pain like this. Yeah. Like resilience.

I lay in the grass and he stands over me. The sun alights his hair like a halo. Is he gonna make me feel this way every day? Physically and mentally, he'll deplete me and deplete me until I'm stronger? It hurts and part of me doesn't want it, but the bigger part—a part wide and almost suffocating—yearns for it.

"Rest until your muscles aren't so sore, and then do it again." He gestures to Pod 153. "Pod's orders."

"Thanks, Pod."

"Appreciation acknowledged," Pod 153 says.

9S and I laugh.

Even though I've never been in this much pain before I've also never been so exhilarated. It's like, for the first time, I've stepped out of the hole I've been living in.

And there's so much to see.

"Say, 9S?" I tap his knee with my foot. "The sword's called Cruel Oath, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"What's an 'oath'?"

"It's like a promise. Something made between people that is meant to last until either party dies."

I almost laugh at his stiff definition. A promise. I've read about those in the literature. So an oath and a promise are synonyms.

"Can we make one?" I say.

"A promise?"

"Yes!"

He sits down beside me and unfastens his visor. "Sure." It drops to his knees and he stretches into the air.

I blank at seeing his eyes—their vibrancy is crippling. "I don't know what to promise."

He shoots me a wry look. "You know, we already have one."

"We do?"

"Yup. As an android to a human, I've sworn an oath to protect you."

I stick out my tongue in distaste. "Not that."

He doesn't say anything. He drifts his hand across some blades of grass, causing them to bend and spring.

I sit up. "I know! Let's make a 'cruel oath' to always be friends."

He sets his chin in his hand. "What's cruel about that?"

"Right. I mean, just an oath then? To be friends? No matter what?"

He tilts his head, and then gives a little laugh. "Friends, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Friends are equals, you know."

"I'm aware."

He flushes and looks away.

I reach out and touch the back of his glove. He doesn't react, so I run my fingers down to the cuff of his glove and wriggle in to touch his artificial skin.

He shuts his eyes. "Well, in that case, call . . . call me Nines."

"Nines?"

"Yup." He is unnaturally still. "My nickname."

"Okay." I gear myself up. "Nines."

He drops his face into his hand. Is he okay? I want to tug his hand away to see his face.

"Then, um, call me Ribb?" Is this the same type of thing?

"Ribb?" He drops his hand. "Alright, Ribb. Shake my hand."

We shake hands.

He is smiling without restraint. "Let's always be friends. It's a promise."

I smile back. "Always."

But for some reason, I can't get his words out of my head:

What's cruel about that?

* * *

I'd gone out on my own to scrounge for spare body parts from where 9S—I mean Nines—killed the machine life forms. Some parts of them were in tact, so I took a box I made of spare materials and plopped some of those parts in.

I've carried them all the way back, finding doing so on my right shoulder provides the least fatigue and pain. I'm getting stronger, even if it's pathetically incremental.

When I return to the village, the machine children swarm me in curiosity.

I tell them I've brought gifts and they ask me to help them assemble new parts. Pete gets new arms—longer ones, so he can reach the things he wants to reach. Margot asks if I have longer legs, "like Beattie" has, and I think I have something like that, so I fish for them.

Can I make something for myself, too? I'm slow, but what if I assemble something that can boost my speed?

That would be cool. I'll ask the weapons dealer since he's pretty good at making tools.

"Pascal!" I call, since he's approaching. "Is there any—?" I cut myself off.

I drop the parts I'm holding.

2B is next to him.

Pascal doesn't know 2B isn't informed on 9S and I.

Now he has let her into the village without bothering to conceal me.

Shit.

Shit, she has to have figured it out.

And she's looking at me. I can't sneak off pretending Pascal told me to leave and hide. I can't keep up the facade.

My thoughts are shuffled and stunted.

What do I do?

I level my breathing. Calm. Regulate. Calm. I have to be tactful.

I snap out of it and approach them.


	11. Chapter 11

**11.**

I haven't seen 2B in a while. Nines isn't with her, either.

"Hello, 2B! Long time no see."

She nods at me. Her gaze lingers.

Act innocent, like Nines does when he's trying to inconspicuously get information. "I was just scrounging through spare machine parts for the villagers, Pascal." I point at my earnings. "Do you need anything replaced?"

"Why, that is very thoughtful of you, Ribbon," Pascal says. "I am in good shape, however. Let's let the children pick."

"Sure."

We stand in silence.

I don't look away from 2B. I have to assess her. What does she know? Is she surprised Pascal isn't bothering to hide me? What connections is she making in her mind?

Her dual swords float behind her and a childish inkling pricks at me. I want to tell her I have a matching sword, but that would be madness. Nines' sword is hidden under my blanket in my house and I'm not gonna tell her a thing about it.

"2B, since you're here—have you had a tour of the village yet?" I ask.

She starts. "I've already looked around."

"Okay." How can I keep her here longer?

She turns to Pascal. "Anyway, I'll have the fuel filtered delivered. I'll transmit to you when it's been done."

They transmit directly to each other? Is that why I haven't seen 2B or Nines around on "official" business?

Did 2B do that in order to avoid Nines running into me?

I step closer to her and she looks me up and down. "How have you been? Wanna hang out for a bit?"

"Ribbon, I'm afraid that isn't a privilege I can afford."

Right. Right, I knew she'd reject me, but asking's okay, right?

"9S is waiting back at the camp." She turns.

"Oh, uh, how is he?" I have to act like I don't know, after all.

She glances back at me. "He is good. I won't be telling him you asked. You understand why."

Reminding me?

"Ribbon, has he been around since we last talked?"

"Not that I've seen." It comes out of me without hesitation.

"I see." She offers a quick, polite smile. "It is good to see you are well."

Pascal and I watch as she crosses the bridge to the exit.

"Oh, my." Pascal peers at me. "You should not try and trick androids, Ribbon. Especially—"

I know.

I dart after her, leaving Pascal spluttering.

"2B!" For all I know, she's zipped back to camp by now what with how fast androids can be. But of course, she just left. She's probably lingering to watch me from afar or something.

She's on the path in the forest leading to the barricade that blocks the village from the city ruins. Where we met weeks ago when she warned me about Nines' curiosity.

She half-turns. "Ribbon."

I slow to a stop next to her. The breeze is playing with her hair, causing strands to stir across each other. Her features are fine and beautiful. Why did humans design androids to be so flawless?

"Ribbon?" she prompts.

Oh. Right. I'm staring like a transfixed idiot.

"Um." My heart rate is increasing. My pulse pounds through me in an insistent rhythm. "Can't you stay for a little while?" She has already rejected me but I have to keep trying. I need to know what she knows. I need to know if Nines will be okay.

And I also just want to spend time with her.

If we get along—if she does know Nines comes here—is there a way we can all hang out together? Is that just wishful thinking, something the naive part of me clings to? But I don't care. I want her here.

"What do you want from me, Ribbon?" she asks. "You are a machine, are you not?"

I falter.

She does know.

She's baiting me.

I know I'm human now and she must know that I've accepted that.

I grab her hand. She makes a startled sound when I press our hands flat together. Her fingers are slender and splayed against mine. Cold, like 9S. I resist the urge to intertwine our fingers and just hold our hands flat together.

"We're similar." My mouth is dry. "I just want to be around something similar and new." I toss my head back, indicating towards the village. "Although I'm a machine, I feel—"

"Pascal told me 9S and you spoke to him."

My vision blurs for a moment as I fixate on our hands.

I exhale, soft and thin.

Shit.

There's a prickling sensation in my scalp. Pascal. Something swarms my chest and throat, tight and horrible. Pascal, you idiot. I can imagine he just mentioned it carelessly, too. Oh, my, 2B! You should've warned me you discovered Ribbon—I thought 9S was going to do something rash!

Damn it.

"Even if he hadn't," 2B goes on, "I've already followed 9S here."

I can't move. I don't know what to say. It's all uncertain and strange and nauseating.

But this is good, isn't it? It's all out in the air, and I can ask her to train with us.

"It was difficult at first to track him." She's speaking in monotone. "He's a scanner. He specialises in being discreet, after all. But when his curiosity overrides his caution, he gets a little careless. Especially if his focus is on something he's absolutely enchanted by."

I finally take my hand away, flustered. "Ah, that's—that's . . ." I rummage through excuses and ideas and lies. What do I do now?

I grit my teeth and lift my head. "I ordered him."

She pauses.

"It—it's just that—I wanted to know about androids so badly and you said he was curious and I thought it'd be the perfect opportunity to take advantage of that." I speak fast and messy. "It's not his fault. I ordered him knowing about your chain of command, knowing you told me not to, and knowing he'd listen."

She doesn't say anything.

I think I'm going to pass out.

"You're protecting him." She sounds cautious.

Some birds above take flight from the branches, abrupt. A feather seesaws down next to us after the flurry. I'm perspiring and it's probably not from the heat.

I jump when her hand touches the top of my head. She lays her palm flat and I tense.

Ah. She's touching me. I want to hold her hand there like a weirdo.

"Command isn't aware," she says.

My heart's stretched so thin it hurts. What does that mean?

Is she saying she'll continue to keep it a secret?

Her hand falls away and she turns around. "Asking you to tell 9S not to come around you had a low probability of success. I'm aware of that, yet I tried anyway."

I don't move.

"All I can do is try."

I'm dizzy.

"It was not my place to ask you to stay away from us, and yet I did it anyway." She begins to walk away. "Ribbon, 9S is in a precarious situation. In a perfect world, you would _order_ him to stay away."

I go to speak, but she takes off.

I stand alone. The fallen feather drifts around my boots, carried by a slight wind.

Nines comes here often. He was even going to stay with me when I asked. He's not being cautious.

2B is still a wildcard. Was that a warning or was it a promise to keep quiet?

I turn around and make my way back to the village. I'm shaking.

I hope she can see Nines is my best friend in the whole world and if she takes him away from me, I don't know what I would be capable of doing.

* * *

**AN:** Maybe Ribbon doesn't know he's about as threatening as a piece of lint, idk?

Sorry for the delay on updating! It may be a bit slower since I've started a second job ;.; Life is cruel.


	12. Chapter 12

**12.**

"Try this!"

"Nines, I'm so full."

"It's just a little." He pushes the meat towards me. "You said you like boar meat, so what about this?"

"What is it?"

"Moose!"

I push his hand away and he averts his gaze, dropping his hand.

"Okay. If you really don't want to." He sits back on his haunches. "But if you get hungry again, can you try it?"

Today Nines is very interested in eating. Androids are capable of it, but they stick to basic rations sorted together by Command. They can taste, but not to the degree humans can, and eating is more for fun than for necessities sake.

I need to eat in order to live.

He has given me every vegetable I've ever come across. Lately he has been "cooking" meat. His pod has been teaching him a wide range of culinary practices and he's getting good at preparing food.

He takes a bite of the meat and chews thoughtfully.

"Do you like it?" I ask.

He swallows and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "I don't know. It's got a funny texture, but it's not bad." He holds it out to me again. "Your tastebuds are natural. I wanna know if you like it."

My laugh is strained. "Does it matter?"

"Yeah, because then I can bring moose meat instead of boar meat. I want to know which you like better."

"Um, well, I really like boar meat."

"Can't you just have a taste?"

"Nines, I'm so full, you're gonna kill me."

He laughs and lays down in the grass next to me. He pulls at the meat with his gloved hands. "What does it feel like to be 'full'?"

"Like my stomach is gonna pop open."

"That's morbid."

"I also feel very sleepy. I don't wanna move." I flop down next to him. "I want to sleep."

"Sleep, then."

I shut my eyes. It's bright out and the sun highlights my eyelids red. Nines shuffles in the grass and I peek an eye open. He has rolled onto his side and is nibbling at the meat, but not eating it. And he calls me a squirrel. He told me I have childish tendencies, but so does he. I flick his forehead and he moves back.

"What?"

He's so at ease, but I have to tell him. "I saw 2B."

"You did?"

"She came to pick up a fuel filter from Pascal."

"I see. Yeah, she doesn't let me visit the village. Makes excuses, like '9S, you'll just get distracted and try to hack the machines' like she believes I get possessed by an uncontrollable hacking urge every time I see a docile machine."

"Hacking?"

"It's nothing." He heaves a sigh. "Did she stay long?"

"Yes."

He frowns.

"She saw me. Pascal didn't bother to hide me, and . . ."

He sits up on one elbow, alert.

"She knows you come here." I keep my voice steady as to not alarm him. "It's okay." I think. "She said Command hasn't caught on, or something."

"She's . . . she's okay with it?"

I circle my hand. "Well, she was pretty grudging. She asked me to order you to stay away."

He presses his forehead into the grass. "Oh." He sounds hollow.

"Nines?"

He clutches his jacket at his chest.

"Are you all right?"

"It's hard to breathe."

I sit up and touch his shoulder. "Are you malfunctioning?"

He shakes his head.

He's afraid, maybe?

But I said she wasn't going to do anything. She said Command was unaware. That's good, isn't it?

Should I distract him?

"2B is almost painfully pretty." I keep my tone lighthearted. "I couldn't stop staring at her. How do you focus on anything with her around?"

He hesitates and his gaze flicks up to meet mine. "She's mine, Ribbon."

I pause. "Yours?"

He nods and rolls onto his back. "Yeah, my partner."

"Okay." I make myself smile. "I know."

He links his hands behind his head.

I watch the side of his face. He doesn't always wear his visor with me, and I like the times he doesn't because I like his eyes. After the first time I saw them, I borrowed Margot's piece of glass and looked at my own eyes. Studied them, transfixed, for a long time. My eyes are brown with gold flecks and a weird, grayish colour near the pupils. Nines' eyes are way more vibrant—blue and endless, layered and sharp.

When he wears his visor, it's sometimes like talking to a stranger.

I reach around his head and tug at the tie. "Take this off."

He nudges my hand away. "Why?"

I reach again but he doesn't stop me this time. I pull it off and lay it next to us. "Tell me about you and 2B."

"What do you mean?"

"You said she's 'yours'. I don't understand that."

His shrug is stiff. "I just meant she's my partner."

I pull at the grass, contemplative. "The way you said that, Nines, was kinda posse—"

"Say, Ribbon?" He has that fake innocence in his voice again.

"Yeah?"

"When 2B talks to you, does she act kind of like me?" He lifts a hand and spreads his fingers, wiggling them.

"What do you mean? She's totally different." If 2B came at me with Nines' playfulness and curiosity I'd have a heart attack.

"I mean, is she taken by you? As an android to a human?"

"Well, I guess. I mean, she has that 'honour' vibe you mentioned." She's way better at keeping herself in check than he is, though.

He laughs. "I hate that."

"Huh?"

He drops his hand. "I'm glad she doesn't take me along to the village with her. I don't want to see her look at anyone like that, even if he's a human and it's just that insuppressible, innate _thing_ we feel."

Oh. I know this. I know this!

I shoot upright, unable to inhibit the bolt of realization. "This is the first time I've encountered this!"

He blinks at me like I've lost my mind.

"You're jealous!"

He slaps a hand to his face. "Ribb, you are so annoying sometimes."

"What?" I pull at his arm. "That's mean!"

"Don't just exclaim that with a stupid grin on your face!" He gets up fast, grabbing my arm and twisting me around in a quick motion. I'm on my stomach, and he's pushing me into the ground. "Eat grass."

I laugh and scream as he wrestles my face down.

"You said you're full but you seem to really, really want to eat grass."

"No, I don't." I struggle, feeble and pointless since he's an android and literally impossible to overpower. "I don't." I'm laughing so hard it hurts to talk. "Please don't be mean."

"Nom, nom." He must think that's what eating sounds like?

He finally lets go and I pant on the ground.

He lays back down beside me as if nothing happened. "Anyway, 2B and I are partners, is all."

"Clearly." I roll onto my side, shielding my face from the sun, which has found a nice spot between two trees to pour into my eyes.

We lapse into a silence.

He shuts his eyes and I resist the urge to poke him to startle him. He looks peaceful again, so I should leave him be, even though he did just attack me. I shouldn't think of petty revenge, especially since it won't end well for me in the, well, end.

I want to tap my toes against his boots or pull at his hair or drizzle grass onto his nose. Anything. Maybe it's because he—and 2B—are the only androids I've met, the only things close to humans, but I always want physical contact. Nines does it too. We're always pulling at each other. Well, I pull, and he pushes. But we're always brushing or drifting or playing. I'm not sure why Nines does it, but I think I do it because I've been starved from that kind of contact for my whole life.

Humans, according to the literature and according to my own actions, are affectionate. Touching has been proven to increase a human's mood and well-being.

When I do it too much, Nines gets funny, though. He withdraws. Is it because he doesn't think he's "worthy" of that type of treatment from a human?

"Nines." My voice is smooth. I'll keep enforcing it then, until he's used to it. "Can you play with my hair?"

He opens his eyes and he turns his head to face me. "Acting like a kid again?"

"Huh?" My neck heats up. "I just like it. It feels nice." I don't like when he thinks I'm childish. I want to impress him after all. How can a child impress anyone?

He makes a thinking noise.

"Please? I like when you touch me." I shuffle closer.

He laughs, abrupt and loud. "Ribb, you talk like a human lover sometimes."

I do? "Like about mating and stuff?" When have I ever done that?

"No. You say things that the YoHRa androids wouldn't be caught dead saying—not that they can talk if they are dead, but you get it, right? You talk like I'm precious to you." He grins. "It's really embarrassing."

"But you're smiling."

"Well, a human talking to an android like that is unheard of."

"Really?"

"We literally exist for humans. Of course we'd be happy when one looks at us like an equal." He flinches. "Oh, I didn't mean to imply I'm an equal. I know I'm—"

"Didn't we already make a promise to be friends?" I laugh. "Of course we're the same!"

He drapes an arm over his face. "We aren't, Ribb."

I kick my feet against the grass. "It's not a bad thing, is it? When I say stuff that makes you embarrassed?"

He looks away and shakes his head.

"Do you want 2B to talk to you like I do?"

"What kinda question—?" His cheeks colour. "I'd die of shock if 2B did."

That again. I remember him bending over—_You're going to kill me. _

"You want her to say embarrassing stuff to you?"

He laughs and rubs his cheek. "Quit it. I don't know."

He's really flustered. I'm transfixed. So, it isn't just me he gets like that about?

"I don't know." He looks away, pulling his knees up.

Well, if he looks that happy thinking about it, he definitely wants her to. Maybe I won't call him out in case he attacks me again.

He jerks, sudden. He sits up, grabs the visor, and ties it over his head. "Oh, yes. I'm here, 2B. Yes, I'm here. I was just—washing my face?" His voice piques at the end. "Yes, washing machine oil off my face. I killed an oily one?" He drops his face into his hands. "I'll be there in a sec."

I sit up and he glances at me.

"Guess she knows where I actually am, doesn't she?"

"Maybe."

He makes a dismayed noise. "At best, I'll have to put up with her glaring at me and giving me the silent treatment. At worst, she's going to throttle me."

We share a grin.

He gets up, bops me on the head, and runs off.

I'm giddy after he leaves, and I stay in the clearing a little longer. When I'm ready to leave, I get up and brush off grass stains, and then head into the forest.

There's a dead rabbit on the path, looking oddly thin as if it has been drained. Probably Margot's—hobbies.

But I'm in such a good mood I don't care.

* * *

The sun hides behind clouds to make an iron sky. Nines' hair whips about his head from a tumultuous burst of wind as he holds out the ribbon to me.

It's cold out, that day.

The day everything changes.

* * *

**AN:** :O

Wait, the plot wants to move on from lovey dovey fluffy wuffy? :O

:O

PS: Lurkers, let me know how I'm doing!


	13. Chapter 13

**13.**

"I can't analyse it." Nines sounds defeated. "Whatever this is, it isn't android technology. It's one hundred percent human, I'm sure—but, Ribbon, I think it's archaic. I think it was designed in the old world, so many years back that I cannot even trace it."

We stand, necks bent as we look down, our heads bumping. The wind is attacking us in relentless bursts.

"Wow." It's that old? "But I'm only—what? Fifteen years old?"

"I don't think you're the humans we came from. Well, that's not true. I don't think you came from the moon, is what I mean." He rubs his thumbs along the fabric of the ribbon, along the numbers. 098/100. "Maybe—maybe there's some humans who didn't make it to the moon and they got left behind and they've been surviving unbeknownst to machines and androids and even the other humans."

I breathe out through my nose. "Is that cool? It sounds cool, like I beat some crazy odds or something."

Nines laughs and the wind carries it away. "Yeah, it's awesome, Ribb." He steps back. "I think I'll have better luck with you."

"What d'you mean?"

"If I analyse you with the ribbon. Maybe it's connected to you and only activates under proper conditions." He walks in a slow circle now, head still bent as he inspects the ribbon. "When I go back today . . . will you come with me?"

I swallow.

I should.

I should, shouldn't I?

"I'll say goodbye to Pascal and the villagers." I'm shaking. "Give me one day. I'll say goodbye."

He smiles. "Okay."

I'll go back with him. I'll see him all the time, right? I won't lose track of him in the sky.

We stand in silence. He puts a hand up to fend against the wind and he sighs. He comes closer and hands me the ribbon. I take it. I'll hold onto this, then.

"How are you doing with all this, by the way?" He tugs at his gloves. "You seem to be accepting of the fact you're a human. Pretty impressive, considering you've had to alter your whole schema and all. So, are you? Are you doing well?"

I cock my head to the left, and then to the right. "Sure. To be honest—"

He spits out a little laugh.

"Huh? What?"

"You always say that, but when aren't you honest, Ribb?" He waves his hand. "Sorry, go on."

I flush. "Um, yeah. I am happy I am a human."

"Yeah?"

"At first, when I wasn't sure, I wanted it to be true but I was afraid of wanting it. What if it wasn't true, after all? What if I what I wanted was just an illusion?" I walk in a circle, pacing, mimicking what he did earlier. "It didn't really matter what I was. Human, android, machine, squirrel. It didn't matter. All I wanted to be was the thing that would bring me closer to you."

He goes still.

"Is that weird?"

He digs a knuckle into his eye. "Show . . ."

"Show?"

He covers his face with his hand. "Show some restraint." He makes a little noise. "How can you say something like that without batting an eye?"

My face gets hot. Why did it get so warm? I want to splash cold water over it.

That was one of those "embarrassing" things, wasn't it?

He drops his hand but still doesn't lift his gaze. He's cheeks are tinged too. Is it because we're both feeling the same thing?

Connections like these—why do I crave them?

"It's, um, weird." It's like I'm talking through mud. "But it's kinda fun, feeling like this."

He sucks in air through his teeth and then his shoulders slump. "Fun?"

"Oh. Do you hate it?"

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. "No. You're like a pup sometimes, and then when you're like this, you're—well, you aren't a kid. You're fifteen. I guess that's . . ." He tugs at his gloves again, pulling and stretching them. "I wonder if you even know what kind of 'fun' you're referring to."

I don't know what to say. He's right. I don't know what I've invoked but he sure is acting funny.

He tilts his head back. "Or maybe it's me who needs to show the restraint?"

"Why do either of us have to do this 'restraint' thing?" I am so confused.

"Ribb, as a human, you can't say that to an android."

"Why not?"

"Because we're built to comply. I'll do anything you want me to."

I still don't know what he means but those words puncture me in a way that splits me. They make my mouth dry, my palms clammy, my heart rate accelerate. They make me dizzy and strange and a little scared.

The literature, the literature. I shuffle through my memories, my knowledge. Wherever did it explain a feeling so twisted like this? When I'm exhilarated and terrified at the same time? What is this and why do I want more of it as much as I want to cast it away? I want to run, maybe. Do I? But I want to do something else.

What is it?

What do I want?

I reach out, numb. Nines doesn't move. My fingertips graze the front of his jacket. They hook on a button on his chest.

The words leave me, soft and quiet, in a daze: "Tag . . . you're . . . it."

The wind dies down but leaves still stir around our boots.

Nines goes to speak but falters. He turns around, sudden, and I retract my hand as if I've been burned.

His spear is out, hovering close to his hand.

I stay silent, my heart in my throat. Is it a hostile machine?

He relaxes, only a little. "Oh. Hello, 2B."

What?

She's here?

2B steps into the clearing, her boots sinking in the grass. "9S, you've been neglecting your duties."

Nines offers a quick smile. "Not really, 2B. I'm tending to a human. Isn't that our duty, foremost?"

"9S. We have not been assigned to Ribbon." Her voice is void.

"Um." I step forward. "I—I asked him to play."

Nines abruptly shoves me back, behind him.

I waver.

Is she going to hurt me?

No. But he said—they said—

She wouldn't hurt me, would she?

"2B, it's fine." He sounds exasperated. "I'm still gathering intel and doing everything I've been ordered to. What I do on my own time is my business."

"But this human is clearly not our business."

I clear my throat. "Um, I don't think your command knows about me at all, 2B."

"That's unimaginable." She shakes her head, slow, from side to side. "9S, if it was just this—maybe I could let it go on—but it's—the Bunker. The Commander found your trail."

He tenses.

Has Nines been straying elsewhere, too?

"You've been accessing confidential information without authorisation, and Command has . . ." 2B trails off, averting her gaze. "I'm sorry, 9S." She pulls her short sword out from behind herself and assumes a stance. "I'm sorry."

She's going to attack him?

What? Why?

Isn't that a bit much?

I almost grab onto Nines but he moves before I can.

He attacks her first but she evades and their weapons meet. They move so fast my eyes can't comprehend, but they are moving further away. They may be trying to put distance between them and I, but I pursue. I'm slow, but they're distracted by each other. They appear here and there, quick and sporadic.

They swing and dodge. Their weapons clash, and at one point, Nines appears a fair distance away from her and holds his hand out.

"Pod, cover me." His voice is hard.

His pod opens fire while something appears at his open palm like a gathering of light.

But 2B is too fast. Her pod attacks Nines' pod. It veers into Nines, cutting off whatever he was trying to do.

And at that moment, 2B slices him. He tries to dodge but is too slow.

My stomach churns.

His arm.

She has destroyed it.

He clasps his shoulder and staggers away. He's been severed at the elbow. His arm hangs by a few circuits and tendons. I see stars. The sparks, the fluid. He's hurt. He's hurt.

2B attacks again, but Nines manages to evade. He's breathing hard and erratic.

"Fuck." He steadies his spear and then collects himself.

2B walks, calm. "Stand down, 9S."

They're fighting.

Aren't the partners?

Why did she hurt him?

Why did she hurt my friend?

I don't understand.

Nines raises his arm again, palm outward, and that light gathers again.

2B dashes behind a tree and Nines curses again.

She zigzags through the trees and then leaps out at him. Again, he's too slow. She takes out his other arm—also cutting it off from the elbow—and he hits the dirt on his knees.

She stands over him.

She pulls her sword back, readying, and—

—he gives a whispery laugh.

"I can still feel your hands around my throat." His expression is dazed. "Even when they're not there."

She hesitates.

And then she stabs him through the throat and my own heart stops.

Everything does, really.

The conception of time, touch, sound is meaningless. There is no wind to stir or sun to cascade across our skin. Birds don't call and if they were to, they would open their beaks and out would come nothing but a shrill scream.

Grey.

* * *

I read once, in a novel, that death can be pretty.

Flowers, resolve, peace.

But it isn't.

It is violent and grotesque.

It is Nines' choking on his own blood in front of me.

It is shell shock and sickness.

It is the hotness behind my eyes and the strangled plea in my throat. Please don't, 2B. She already has, but please don't. Please, please don't hurt my friend.

I can't feel my body.

She takes the sword out and Nines drops to his side. The lightness in his eyes dims to grey, and his expression fades.

2B stands over him for a moment. Silence. The loudest silence I've ever heard.

She knees, slow and robotic, and then slides her arms around him. She props his shoulders and head up onto her lap and her fingers touch his hair, threading through. She is shaking. Her hand drifts down his face. She brushes her thumb along his bottom lip. Her trembles cause her to slouch forward and she hugs him tighter, pressing him to her chest.

She's crying.

The thought crosses my mind like it's the simplest, most obvious thing.

Except—the books lie, or maybe the androids have a programming error.

You aren't supposed to kill the person you cry for.

Though it is similar to a disease, isn't it?

That "love" thing?

She lifts her head, still clutching him to her, but our eyes lock and something stirs in me so strong and thrashing it almost makes me throw up.

"Ribbon." Her voice is steady but laced with a hoarseness that makes it seem she's speaking for the first time in years. "The next time you see 9S, please avoid him."

The next time—?

He'll come back?

"He won't remember you. He won't be the same. The 9S you knew is gone so please don't bother." The words are mechanical like she isn't aware she is saying them.

I swallow.

"Stay away from him."

Is this what she meant?

She's gripping him so hard his shoulder has been dislocated. My head swims.

The first time I witness love is also the first time I understand what it means to hate.

The dream is done.

* * *

**End Part I**

* * *

**AN:** ;.;

I am really behind on review responding, but I will get back to you all soon! You guys are awesome. Thanks to the lurkers who crept forth!

PS: Yes, Ribbon is physically male, but I try to write him kinda androgyny because he doesn't partake in gender society norms aside from the literature he reads.


	14. Chapter 14

**14.**

It's cold and the lights from the amusement park cast the trees in a purple haze. I lean against an elbow against a tree as I bend over to pick up the mushrooms at its roots. They're wedged in there, and it's as I'm collecting the fungi that I pause.

Not even a metre away is an android body.

It is clothed in the garbs of the Resistance—the cape and layers, the thick boots, and the goggles—except half the goggles are gone because half the head is gone, revealing, it its place, fine circuitry and imitation blood.

I straighten.

The machines in the amusement park aren't responsible. They're non hostile. A little crazy, but non hostile.

Unless—?

Well, no. Judging by the music and singing, they are still more occupied with partying than killing.

Is there a hostile machine life form around, then?

But this body looks like it has been here for some time.

I tuck the mushrooms into my pack and kneel next to the android. It's obviously dead but I check its pulse anyway. A male Resistance model.

The only wound is from its head.

It's a little tasteless, but it's dead and I'm still alive. I also don't have the time or interest to sit around knitting, so I get to work stripping the clothes from the android. It should all fit okay. I've been growing and I've had to make new clothes in order to properly cover myself, so this is a bonus.

"Sorry." I pull off its boots. They're brown and look kind of new. I pull off the cape and drape this over me immediately and I sit on my knees, eyes shut, and reflect. The cape is cold but the longer it cocoons me, the warmer I get.

I'll investigate a little. If an android has been killed here, maybe the hostile machine is nearby. This place is too close to the machine village for my comfort.

I get up and walk towards the amusement park gates. Fireworks launch into the air, spattering the world in a splendour of colour. They sprinkle through the sky until they arch back down, dying into nothing.

There's a machine at the entrance asking me to dance.

"Excuse me." I stop next to it. "Did you see what happened to that android in the forest?"

"What android, what android?" It flails its arms.

I jab a thumb over my shoulder. "Right over there."

It leans over to peer past me. "I am afraid I did not see a thing that was suspicious other than an android stealing its clothes."

I peer down at it.

"Tee-hee. I jokes."

"Anyway." Most machine life forms assume I'm an android, which is interesting. They can't "sense" otherwise. "Be careful."

"Of course! We are not violent here. No violence, please and thank-you. We sing, we play, we dance." It grabs hold of my hands. "Dance with me. Let's dance. Let's play."

"I'm a little busy." I try to tug away but the damn thing clings on.

"Ha-ha-ha. This is fun."

"Oh, whatever." I let it spin me around the square. Other machines, these ones wearing the bizarre festive designs and wonky hats—wherever they even found these things—come close and throw confetti at us. It sprinkles about my hair and gets caught in the folds of my clothes.

My bag of spoils—the food I've gathered and the clothes and boots I just took from the dead android—is heavy. I arch my back and endure until the happy machine finally lets go of me. It sails off with a wailing laugh that is pure damn nightmare fuel. If it wasn't so ridiculous I'd be disturbed.

I roll my arm, circling my shoulder, as the other machines continue to stand, stare, and toss confetti at me.

"You can stop that now." I adjust the bag strap on my shoulder. "Did any of you machines see what happened to the android out front?"

"Not I," one declares.

"I only see with my heart," another says.

"I love you, you love me," the third sings.

Yeah, why did I come here again?

I push past them and head up the stairs. I'll take the bridge through the back of the park. Going into the city ruins is always a task harder than it should be. Both Resistance and YoHRa have been more active there and it's a bit of a pain to have to watch out for androids every step of the way—especially since they can sense me.

It isn't that I don't like androids. It's just that I don't want one to drag me to the Bunker.

I can't—

I can't have an android meddling until I want them to meddle.

I head to the side door and when I open it I nearly kick the small machine waiting on the other side as it screams at me.

"Congratulations! Congratulations!" It waves its rickety arms. "You found our secret passage. You are a winner. No. You are _the_ winner."

"And I win a heart attack?" I nudge it aside with my knee. "Don't ambush people."

"I ambush only with joy and fun!"

I speed walk to the ladder and haul myself up to the catwalk.

At the top, I pause and peer around.

The wind whistles in my ears.

The hair on my arms are erect. A chill sweeps through me. The sensation of being watched by something more adept than me. It's not a sense I'm unfamiliar with considering I am not strong in this world. I'm unfit for it, as hard as that is to accept. The humans died and the world moved on and I have not adapted.

I lock eyes with the machine below.

Not that. That isn't what's got me reeling.

I carry on down the catwalk, fast.

* * *

The children crowd me.

"Ribbon!"

"He is back!"

"Let's play!"

"Hey, everyone." I'm exhausted and I want to fall face first into something fluffy, but I've gotta appease these little guys first. "I'm sorry I didn't bring anything back." Well, for them. I've got stuff for myself. Speaking of which, I'm famished. My stomach's probably hollow.

Pascal appears and pulls the children away. "Now, now, children. Let's give Ribbon some space."

"Pascal." I grin and claw him into a hug. "I didn't mean to leave for so long."

"It's fine. I'm glad you are okay." Pascal pulls back. "My, you are taller."

"Right?"

"Why don't you stay in the village where it is safe?"

I pass him, reaching into my pack for a mushroom. "You know I can't."

"What are you doing out there, Ribbon?" Pascal follows me to our little house.

Pascal wouldn't really understand if I told him. He'd just worry.

"Just exploring. Getting food and learning about the world. Maybe finding hints about other humans." I take a bite out of the mushroom.

"You do not have to stay away for so long to do that."

"It's just easier to sleep outside sometimes." But really, sometimes I'm so far away I can't get back before nightfall. How will I ever get far if I keep coming back here as a starting point?

And how will I keep track if I don't watch?

"Pascal, don't fret." I drop my bag and then shrug off Cruel Oath from my back. "I've got this, after all." I mean, it's not much. Enough to keep me safe from a small number of machines. My best bet of survival is running, but sometimes I can pick off a machine or two if the situation isn't too overwhelming.

The weapons trader here also made me some bomb type weapons although carrying them around unnerves me. Any malfunction and I'm toast. I've got "throwing knives" which look more like needles, but they are designed to penetrate into a machine's exterior and then release an electric shock which should fry their circuitry and render them unable to move.

Still iffy. Running's always best.

Living with machines has kind of given me an advantage in avoiding them. Playing hide and seek with the children is far easier, sure, but it still gave me an idea of how to avoid the aggressive ones.

I chomp down a bunch of nuts. I've been growing and almost nonstop physically exerting myself so I'm always hungry. I need energy all the time. I've only been able to kill a couple animals on my trips, but the meat goes bad so if I don't consume it quick it spoils and makes me sick. I try to kill smaller animals so I don't waste them.

It's easier, too, than sneaking up on a sleeping moose and stabbing it in the neck. Way safer, too. If I don't fatally wound a moose or boar in one go, I'm dead.

And I can't die yet.

I lay on my back and cross my hands behind my head in a makeshift pillow. "Pascal, have 2B and Nine—9S comes through while I was gone?"

"Why, yes. A few times." Pascal drapes a blanket over me.

I push it off with a laugh. "You don't gotta do that, Pascal. I'm not a kid."

A few months ago, I went out and located the Resistance Camp. It's in the city ruins, hidden in a nook. I've never gone inside—the androids would detect me right away, even with my clothes coated in machine oil.

Pascal has a theory androids can tell I'm human by something that is similar to pheromones. It may not be an actual scent they detect, but it is something in the air around me. By draping machine oil around myself, I may be able to blend in as an android that has killed a lot of machines or something. It's better than me waltzing around without any plan.

Still—if I walk smack in the middle of a bunch of them, they're bound to figure it out.

Anyway.

"How are they?" I ask.

"They seem well. 9S is an abnormal android, I find."

"Why do you say that?"

"He is unusually forgetful, perhaps. I wonder if he has a glitch."

I shut my eyes for a moment. "And 2B? How is she?"

"She seems well, too."

My toes curl in my boots.

On a few of my "stake outs" I've seen her outside the Resistance Camp. She does seem to be doing well. Carrying on her duties with a straight face. I've seen Nines trail after her, following her every move. He's always yammering away about something, but I've never dared to get close enough to listen.

Watching them makes me sick. I want to pry them apart. Take Nines with me. Even without any memory of me, he'll come with me—because I'm human, and that has power over him that is unfair and irrational.

But it is the only power I have.

That, and the fuel his "death" spurred in me. I dream about it. The way he choked, the way he bled. Scenarios always conjure in my mind's eye: what it would be like to be with them again. If I appeared in front of them? The look of mourning acceptance on 2B's face, the look of awe on Nines'. Him coming to me, touching me and blasting me with questions, all the while 2B stands silent and grappling, knowing how this shit will end.

Time and time again, I've wanted to surprise them.

Show myself in front of another android and see if they'll take me to the Bunker. I'll find 2B there, and Nines. She can't kill me to wipe me clear. I can always tell Nines what she does.

But considering 2B was ordered to kill her own partner—is the Bunker really somewhere I want to be taken to?

What will they do to me?

Nines said androids are built to protect humans, but what does that really mean?

Will I lose my freedom?

Pascal is making tutting noises so I open my eyes.

"You know, 9S doesn't ask about you. I think he may have forgotten you." Pascal bends over and puts a hand on my shoulder. "If you are here when they come next, you should see if that is the case."

I make myself smile. "I'll do that."

Nines doesn't remember me, but that's okay.

Because I haven't forgotten.

I plan to make us both free.

* * *

**AN:** Our lil Ribbon growing up so fast and vengeful.

PS Thanks for reviewing everyone! It's great to hear your thoughts!


	15. Chapter 15

**15.**

I lose track of time easily. When nights blend into days. It's especially hard because the sun is stagnant. Going close to the amusement park paints the world in forever dusk and it gives the illusion it is later or earlier than it is.

It's a phenomenon that makes time difficult to discern.

But I do know time passes. I have to trace a knife along my face to get rid of facial hair or take a knife along the hair atop my head when it gets too thick and long. I used to have it shaggy but lately, since I've been trekking around so much and perspiring, I've been keeping it much shorter. At first, it was weird to get used to having my ears and neck exposed, but now it's comfortable.

I also use Margot as a clock. She changes. I call it the Margot-madness clock.

But I break that clock today.

Pascal wakes me from my sleep and I sit up, groggy. Pascal is going on and on about a machine in the amusement park who was killed by 2B and Nines a long time ago, before I met them.

"What about it, Pascal?" I rub sleep from my eyes.

"It's Margot. I'm afraid she's—she's become like that unpleasant songstress."

I stand up and grab Cruel Oath and level Pascal with a pensive look.

"I'm sorry, but the children are in danger."

I nod.

Killing something to protect another. It is like an unwritten law in this world.

"Just drive her out, please." Pascal follows me to the exit of our rickety, old home.

There's the dust of rain—a drizzle from not long ago. It's still in the air. I'm not going to scare her away because that won't guarantee anyone's safety.

The machines are panicking. I must've been in a dead sleep to not have heard them. My vision clears with wakefulness and I head along the walkways until I get to the heart of the chaos.

From behind me, Pascal screams.

I've never heard him make such a sound.

Ahead, Margot is trying to eat another female machine.

To the other machines, it must be horrifying. Especially for the children.

But I've seen machine bodies scattered in the wilderness, having died in a variety of ways, and I've taken out a few.

It isn't hard to slice Margot's head off since she is preoccupied. I put a boot to her torso to hep me leverage the stab, and I drive the sword down into her neck, piercing her core.

I step back as she twitches to a stop.

The victimised machine stares at Margot, and then at me.

I glance back. The other villagers stare at me, too.

* * *

The children are too frightened to ask me to play now.

None of the machines approach me.

I've scared them. They don't understand.

I tell Pascal I should probably go for a while.

I gather a bunch of food I've stored and some extra clothes and slip them into my pack. I tell Pascal I'll be back, maybe in a few months. I've gotta give the machines here time to understand or forget or something. But they are afraid of me, in any case. Violence really bothers them.

Pascal tells me I don't have to leave.

But I go anyway.

* * *

I stop at the river to fill my water bladder. I sit on some stones, boots off to the side to let the water trickle along my bare feet to soothe them. I've left home before. In the past, I've been gone for a week, even two. But this feels different. More permanent.

I haven't exactly been shunned—I left on my own—but it still feels like I'm unwanted. I shut my eyes and I'm back with Nines and Nines is staring at me in awe, his pod announcing I am a human, and Nines gravitates towards me like it's the most natural thing. Until meeting the androids—even 2B, as elusive as she was and as much as I hate her—I did not know what it meant to belong.

There are times where the pinch of familiarity with the machines in the village is enough, but it is not the same. It has felt like a strange place since I learned what I am. I kept clinging to it like it was home, but it's not. It never has been.

Sitting at the river now, I'm not even sure I'll ever go back. Nothing permanent. I'll visit.

I should've left with Nines as soon as I met him. Not to the bunker. But just with him.

He would've been beneficial beyond measure. He was analysing the ribbon, and if he could analyse me and the ribbon, we could've figured out what it all meant. If there are any humans alive, we would have found them. This is something I can't prove yet I treat it like a fact. I should have ordered him to do things: stay with me, help me find my kind, protect me, and don't let 2B fucking kill him.

A rustling startles me.

I turn, pulling my feet up and out of the water.

A machine life form's head is poking out from the tall grass near the trees above.

I tense and set my hand on Cruel Oath.

It waddles out of the brush. My hand leaves the sword. The machine isn't hostile, but I'm unsure if that's because it really isn't hostile or if it's because it cannot be.

It has no arms. It has one tier for a body, two feet, and a head. Basically, it's a head with feet.

Very unthreatening.

It stops waddling and stares at me.

"Hello?" I try.

It says nothing.

It seems half-made so maybe it never got vocal functions installed. Its green eyes glow as it watches me.

Well, whatever. It's curious so I'll let it stare. It can't hurt me.

There are all sorts of machine life forms with all different personalities and habits and goals. Most are hostile but the ones that aren't are individualistic and even contemplative, with an innocence that is almost disturbing. Machines are the ones who likely killed my family and maybe even my whole kind, but here I've been mingling with them my whole life.

Killing Margot didn't phase me at all. If it was Pascal, it'd be a different story, and maybe that's because Pascal is more advanced than the other machines. I'm not sure what my criteria is to care for something, to protect it or to not bat an eye at destroying it.

The more I explore, the more bodies I encounter—machine and android alike—and the less it affects me. Maybe that has something to do with it. I'm getting accustomed to this world. If I stopped to feel sad over every dead body I would be in a constant state of mourning.

I dry my feet and pull my boots back on with a little yawn.

The machine trudges down to the bank and peers down at the water. I sling my pack over my back.

"See you." I head up around the water, using a fallen log to help me across. What should I do first? Check on Nines and 2B or investigate a strange door I found in the city ruins?

Nines, first. I want to see him.

But maybe not. I want to see him but I don't want to see_ that. _Him working alongside 2B, happily striking up conversation after conversation like nothing is amiss.

A plopping sound makes me turn back around.

The machine tried to hop onto the log, but fell into the water.

It rolls, unable to right itself.

I frown. I crawl back onto the log and flop on my stomach, and with a grunt, pull the machine head out.

I carry its heaviness across and set it on the bank.

It peers up at me.

I sigh and rub my arms. "Don't do dumb shit." I adjust the straps of my back and then carry on through the trees. I'm most likely to find Nines and 2B around the Resistance Camp, but it's still not the best probability. They are on the move a lot. Nines said they do a lot of machine investigations. He's a scanner model so he gathers intel on the enemy as a primary job, but he is also 2B's support unit. By watching them, I've learned it's as busy as it sounds.

As I pass through the trees, blotted in the sunlight that pokes through from the leaves above, that sensation returns. The prickling at the base of my neck and the soft burn between my shoulder blades.

Like I'm being watched.

I glance back.

In the distance, the machine is toddling after me. Sure, it's kind of watching me, but it's not what's triggering this reaction in me. Instinct, I think. It's like I'm being hunted, maybe.

What is it?

An animal?

A hostile machine?

I take in a slow breath.

The head-machine catches up, stops at my feet, and stares up at me.

"What?" I poke it with my toe. "I'm not doing anything you'd be interested in, so go on." I rarely meet machines outside the village that show attachment. If they aren't hostile, they are usually distracted by some obsession, like the amusement park machines and their partying and their "happiness".

I resume.

When I get to the barricade near the cliffs, my heart is hammering.

Something is definitely on my tail, on purpose.

I pass through the barricade and a chipmunk darts off. I peer back.

The armless machine is in the far distance, still following.

It's determined, I guess.

I wait, fidgeting. Whatever's watching me hasn't attacked, but it's definitely hostile. There's a thick energy about it—something that is strong but cautious, maybe. If it's advanced, it might be wondering what I am before it makes a move. Would calling out to it be suicide?

The machine finally catches up. I slip the pack off and hold it open to the machine.

It surveys the bag for a moment and then walks right in.

It's trusting?

My jaw clenches as I lift the back over my back. So. Much. Heavier. It's doable, but I'm gonna be going at a slower pace.

I start along the cliff. "Just so you know, you may be small, but you are damn heavy."

No response.

I tighten my grip on my pack, take a deep breath, and continue on my way.

* * *

**AN:** Stalker Ribbon being upset he has stalker(s). Hypocrite.


	16. Chapter 16

**16.**

When something that shouldn't be alive takes you in and perceives you—runs you through its mind, assessing and analysing—and forms an opinion—a judgment—there's something uncanny about all that.

At least, there's supposed to be. According to the literature Pascal has provided me, humans did not think of machines or androids as living beings.

They are all I've ever known, and I've always known them to be "alive".

I've never thought of their gazes as unnerving until now.

The feeling of being watched wanes and returns as I wander. I'm intent on seeing Nines but not if I'm being followed by something. It's funny, me wanting to protect him, when in reality: if this thing that is stalking me goes near Nines or 2B, they will easily dispatch it for me because if it's my enemy, it's likely theirs.

I've taken up aimless wandering, hoping the thing trailing me will give up out of sheer boredom. I am a broken android, bumping into shit and getting more and more lost. Nothing spectacular.

But it always comes back. Sometimes I fall asleep feeling secure and wake to the rustle of bushes by my head. I whip up and wait, taut and trying to quiet my harsh breathing. Something is there. Something sits in the dark spaces between the trees and sometimes I stare so hard the black appears to pulse as if it is alive.

It can all be in my imagination. I've left home and that security has been shed, the security of a home, and now my head is playing mind games and making up monsters. When I was little, Pascal said daymares and wild imaginations were normal for me, and I remember wondering if that was so, because other machine children did not stay awake in a cold sweat, imagining strange creatures at their throats.

But of course, machines are afraid of reality, not something that hides deep in their psyche.

Are they?

The machine head sometimes stops what it is doing to stare into the trees, too. Not that it actually does much. The machine stands around and nudges things but that's about it, but as soon as I get that sensation—the eerie prickling along my skin—the machine reacts, too.

Maybe it isn't all in my imagination.

But I really shouldn't be relying on danger cues from an absentminded machine who stares at things all the time for lack of anything else to do.

About four days after leaving the village, I'm walking through the city ruins, using vegetation and building debris as camouflage, when:

"Hello."

I freeze.

It came from right behind my head. It might as well have spoken against my skull.

Wait.

I shrug off the pack as if it has burned me and then turn around. I open it.

There the machine is, staring up at me with tiny yellow eyes.

"Did you say 'hello'?" I ask.

"Hello," he says.

Why now?

Why after four days of silence does he decide he can speak?

I lift him out of the bag and set him on the ground. "You've found out how to use your vocals? Or whatever?"

He stares up at me.

"Are you 'new'?" I ask.

He stops staring and looks over my shoulder. "No. Who are you?"

Bit late to be having introductions considering I've been his chariot for four damn days.

"Hm. I'm Ribbon." I pick him up and hold him at arm's length. "Don't go into a blind rage and try to kill me, okay?" Not that he really can, being basically nothing but a head. "I'm a human."

No reaction.

"How is it?" I say. "Any murderous urges rising?"

"No."

"Good." I set him down. "What's your name?"

"A name." His voice goes wistful. "I have a name?"

"Well, you should go by something, right?"

He says nothing.

I grin. "I'll call you Noggin."

"Noggin?"

"Humans used to use a slang word for head called 'noggin'."

"That is dumb."

Sassy machine. I flick it with a finger and my finger stings. "Whatever. You should've chosen a name, then. Now you're stuck with Noggin."

Noggin doesn't reply. I keep prodding, but get nothing. He has gone back to being silent.

Maybe he's defective? He shuts down now and then?

I drop him back into my bag with a sigh.

* * *

Not even ten minutes later, I fuck up.

I usually steer way clear of androids because I'm afraid they'll get clingy or try to take me to the bunker or something.

But I pretty much almost step right on one.

She, like me, uses the surroundings to move around. She must. Why else would she have hidden herself in a crevice that I'm using to sneak around?

As it turns out, my boot just misses her head. It grazes her ear and we stare at each other.

She is lying down, resting, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, what the fuck?" She does not sound pleased.

What's weirder is she let me step that close. There's no way I caught her off guard. I'm not stealthy and my footfalls can't be hidden that well—not from an android who has her head on the concrete I'm trekking on.

I gingerly take my foot away. "Whoops, pardon me."

I go around her.

"Hold on."

I turn, all dread and woe. She senses it, doesn't she? The thing that made Nines stop me.

She sits upright. She looks rough, and she looks—

She looks like 2B.

It can't be her, though. Her white hair is long, cascading down her back, and her eyes pierce in a way that make me feel itty bitty like a kid again. Her clothes—

Wait.

My face gets hot.

She isn't wearing clothes, is she? Aside from a small top—if it can be called that—what appears to be clothing is damaged skin. Her endoskeleton is black through her artificial skin. Is she one of the deserters Nines spoke about? Someone who left YoHRa and is continuously hunted?

She stands now. How long has she been "on the run" if she looks so worn down?

"What the hell are you?" she asks.

I shift and then spark up a smile. "An android. New model. Very authentic."

She frowns.

"Well, bye!" I spin around and continue on my way.

Her footfalls sound behind me.

She's gonna follow me?

"Is that so?" There's something scathing about her tone.

I laugh despite the dire situation. "That's definitely a trait borrowed from humans."

"What?"

"Feeling threatened by the unknown. Humans tended to show shitty attitudes to things that they didn't understand."

"Pardon my 'shitty attitude', but again—what the hell are you?"

I glance over my shoulder. She isn't close, but she isn't far. She doesn't need to be close to kill me in a second, though.

"You already know, don't you?" I say.

She doesn't reply, but she keeps following me through the crevice. We eventually reach the end, and I dart over to a giant tree root and wedge myself beneath it, and the female android appears next to me as if she has been here all along and is only now materialising into my perception. Her expression is placid and we're so close I am sure she can detect my humanness a thousand fold, however it is androids can tell.

Whatever tips them off, I hope it's pleasant. Like a nice aroma, or something.

"Hi." I don't know if I'm nervous because I'm gonna be found out or because she's intimidating as all hell.

I continue on. We walk the narrow space between the root and a building next to it.

She carries on after me. Her expression is very grim like someone has died.

"Look—" I turn, but her eyebrows raise and I shut up.

"I don't want to follow you either, alright?" Her voice is tight. "It's just that I'm getting some abnormal readings from you and I can't exactly ignore them. This is just as unpleasant for you as it is for me."

"I doubt that."

Her jaw tightens and for a second I'm sure she's gonna draw her massive sword and put me out of my misery. But she remains calm. Thankfully. I mean, I should be careful. She can kill me without me even realising she's coming for me.

"So." I make my tone conversational and we both stop walking. "What kind of readings are these?"

She sighs, her hips shifting as she looks to the side. "I don't know, exactly. A pull, or a push, or just some bizarre sensation. You're certainly a model I've never come across. You said you are new?"

"Well, I'm new, but my kind is older than yours. Like way older."

"There's something buzzing at me. It's almost like I want to say you're a—but no. You just derive similarities of that—but that's ridiculous. And I mean, why would one just be waltzing around in broad daylight? With that dirty sack and a machine head of all things?"

Machine head? Is Noggin actually peeking out of the pack at her or something? Does he have no survival instinct?

Oh, well.

"What are you trying to say?" I make myself sound coaxing.

"You just remind me of a—" She cuts herself off.

"A human?" I finish.

She clenches her fists. "Goddamn it. If you knew what I was gonna say, why did you make me word-find like an idiot?"

"Technically you knew the word you wanted to say. You were just trying to stall or—I don't actually know what you were trying to do." I give a great shrug and spin around. "Well, in any case, you win! Ding-ding. I am a human."

Can't really lie about it now, can I?

Maybe if I'm upfront she'll be less likely to do something weird. Besides, she isn't part of YoHRa anymore—I think—so she has no one to report me to, right?

There are no following footsteps.

I stop and turn.

She is staring at me with an expression I can't place.

It hurts to look at.

Like maybe she has dug up something she lost a long time ago and had given up hope in finding it.

She bows her head a moment, and then she approaches.

"My name is A2." She holds out her hand, and strands of her long hair fall before her eyes. "It is nice to meet you."

She is holding back. But what she's holding, I don't know.

She doesn't seem like a mindless worshippy android, but there's something swelling and strange about her.

I take her hand. "I'm Ribbon."

Our hands fall to our sides—and suddenly: I am glad that of all androids, a calm and disquieted one is the one who I almost stepped on.

* * *

**AN:** IT IS BACK.

I am down to having one job like a normal human being so time is mine again. Hurray!

PS - I am excited to finally write A2.


	17. Chapter 17

**17.**

We climb.

I've asked A2 to locate a safe spot with a good vantage point over the Resistance Camp. Since she has been on the outs of YoHRa, I imagine she's got some good spots.

And she doesn't disappoint.

She tells me it's a trek, but I expected that. We go up slow, taking old staircases. Whenever there's a blocked path, I use the debris or overgrown vegetation to climb my way up. Higher and higher. A2 doesn't perspire—doubt she even has the option—but my clothes stick to me.

She glances at me now and then, and she's probably wondering how humans can be so utterly pitiful. I give a grin whenever it looks like she wants to just throw me to the top. I'm taller than her, broader than her, but I am not an android and I doubt I'd be difficult to throw around,

It takes what must feel like an obscenely long time to A2 to reach the room she suggested. When we reach it, she crosses her arms over her chest and stands next to a table.

The room is bare aside from that old table that has been eaten away by wood bugs.

All I want to do is flop on my face, but I go to the window.

Yes.

This is perfect.

"A2, you're awesome." I turn to her with a wink. "This is perfect."

She raises her eyebrows but says nothing. She looks away.

My chest rises and falls.

The Resistance Camp is below. I cannot see inside, but I have an open view of the sheltered entrance. I unpack Noggin and my blanket and set the blanket along the window. I rummage through my pack, finding nuts to replenish myself with, and then grab the pair of eye lenses the weapon's dealer in the machine village gifted me. He called them "binoculars" and said he found them while searching for weapons parts.

Noggin waddles around and A2 watches him with an expression that suggests she's doing everything in her power to not boot him off the side of the building.

A2 and I haven't really spoken since we met a few hours earlier. She's assessing me. We're both unknown variables to each other. I don't think she is a danger to me, but I don't know if she's someone I can use for protection, either. She ditched YoHRa, which means she's not all that interested in their ideals.

Maybe, as an android, she is instilled with the instinct to protect humans, but—maybe she's not disillusioned. Maybe she doesn't care for humans all that much, despite her programming.

It goes to say I survived this long on my own out of sheer luck. It'd be beneficial to have A2 help me out.

But she's hard to look at. A face like hers. Like 2B's.

Noggin waddles up to me. "Why here?"

He doesn't normally ask questions. He doesn't initiate conversation at all, really.

"The camp."

"Why?"

"There's someone I want to see."

Noggin considers this, and then wanders away.

I sit on the sill. The grey ceiling is full of cobwebs and cracks. Signs of loss and emptiness. This world is so fucking bleak.

A2 comes into my vision range. She stands over me. "Ribbon."

"Yes?"

"Why is a human travelling with a machine?"

"He's harmless, like a child." I make myself smile like that might assure her. But I know that isn't the issue. She knows he's not a threat.

"Can I dispatch him?" she asks.

I pause. "No. I'd rather you not." Androids and machines just kill willy nilly, don't they?

Noggin peers at us without a word.

A2 scoffs and leans her elbows against the window sill, next to me. Her hair cascades along her back as she peers out, and my stomach clinches. Just like 2B. Her face. If her hair was short, she'd—

I unclench my jaw. "You're a deserter, right?"

She says nothing.

Noggin waddles back to me. He stops beside us and stares up at me.

"You were part of YoHRa?" I've assumed this since meeting her. "That blade you carry. It's a older YoHRa model." I saw that type of sword in Nines' arsenal.

She glances at me.

I lean back. "I have nothing to do with YoHRa, to be honest. The humans YoHRa communicates with up on the moon—I know nothing about them."

She stays quiet.

"I guess I'm not 'your' human."

"You are too young, anyway." She flicks a strand of hair out of her face.

"For?"

"Having any involvement in a certain operation I was involved with in the past."

Noggin peers at her now.

She spins around and places one of her shoes between Noggin's glowing yellow eyes. "If you are some kind of spy, I will blow you to bits."

Noggin steps back and wanders to one of my legs that is dangling. He presses against me, cold.

"Don't bully him." I speak through a laugh.

A2 frowns.

I stand. "It's okay, Noggin." Beside A2, I am a little taller. I'd be taller than 2B and Nines now. Funny.

Outside the window, the day is cloudy but bright, the sky a pearl white, equal parts eerie and beautiful.

I hold the binoculars to my face and focus on the Resistance Camp's partially hidden entrance.

"It is an android you are looking for?" A2 asks.

"Yes."

"Not a machine?"

I shake my head.

"You are staking out androids as . . . an enemy?"

I glance at her. "You can say I don't have a lot of love for this YoHRa organisation."

"Are you allies with machines?" Her voice is tight. "I don't understand how a human could possibly—"

"I am not allies or enemies with anyone." I go back to scoping.

The entrance is quiet. There's a moose milling around. Some machines pitter patter around nearby. A bird crosses my vision.

"What is it you're searching for?" A2 asks.

I set the binoculars down with a sigh. "Um, really, my goal is to find out if there are any other humans on Earth." I turn to her. "Like me."

"You don't know?"

"No, I don't. Everyone I could've known is dead, apparently, but there must be something around here—or around the machine village—that is a hint of the humans I come from." I lean against the wall next to the window. "A hint of what happened. The past. And then maybe, the future. What I should do now."

A2 taps her fingers against the sill.

"What do you want, A2?"

She leans against the wall on the other side of the window. "I've wanted to kill any machine I can get my hands on. That's about the extent of it."

I tilt my head. "Revenge?"

"Yes."

"I know about that."

Light pools in between us.

She lifts her head. "So, if you are searching for other humans—or where you came from—why are you up here looking for an android?"

"Ever had more than one goal, A2?" I half-grin. "I am checking in on someone."

She frowns.

"I can't help myself." I rub my shoulder and crane my neck. "It has been a long time since I've seen him."

Noggin seems to be "asleep" now. He has not moved in a while and stares blankly ahead.

I rub my eyes. I'm exhausted, too. Really.

A2 is eyeing Noggin with a sour expression.

"Listen, I gotta sleep." I drop down on the blanket. "Human needs call." I stifle a yawn. "Will you be here when I wake up?"

She starts.

I wait.

She levels me with a look. "What would you like me to do?"

"I'd like you to stay," I say, "but it is up to you. What do you want to do?"

She draws her arms over her chest. "I don't know."

"That's fine." I roll onto my side. "It's not a contract."

I fall asleep in perfect comfort. Having an android around eases me. I might be able to survive, after all.

If she stays with me.

* * *

When I wake, Noggin is face down on my stomach. He is heavy and it's difficult to breathe.

I nudge him off and he rolls a little ways away. Clocked out.

What an oddball.

I roll my shoulders, stretch, and yawn.

A2 is gone.

I get up and grab the binoculars and peer down at the camp.

A2 likely has a vastly different experience than Nines and 2B. She seems jaded. There's obviously a reason she deserted YoHRa. Nines should leave, too. He could live out here like her, can't he? What would Nines be like as a deserter?

Free and curious and—happy, probably.

Right?

Although I wouldn't describe A2 as happy.

How does A2 feel about humans?

Does her view on them really conflict with how she is programmed to feel about them?

She seems wary of me.

Guess I am pretty suspicious, chumming around with a weird machine and spying on the Resistance.

Whatever. She left me.

I sit on the windowsill, one leg dangling out again, and watch and wait.

My back gets sore after a few hours so I get up and stretch. I pace for a while, and then go back to watching.

Androids come and go throughout the day.

And finally—finally, they arrive.

They're heading in.

Nines and 2B.

They've stopped at the entrance and are talking.

Nines looks the same. Nothing about him changes, appearance wise, but I kind of wish it did. My throat constricts and my heart rate increases. I wish he would change so I wouldn't be brought back to the exact moment I saw him last: the way he choked on his own blood, but before that, too—before 2B interrupted us, when I reached for him and finally, finally started to grasp what it meant to want to stay with someone.

He is talking animatedly to 2B, who has a hand on her hip as she listens.

"I know those two."

I about fall out the window to my death in my alarm. I grip onto the sill and jerk myself inside.

A2 is standing a few feet away.

I clasp my chest. "You scared the hell out of me."

She's back.

Wait.

"Those two?" I point to the small shapes by the entrance.

She takes the binoculars from me and looks through them. "Yes, it's definitely them. They have orders to find and kill me."

"Oh. Shit." I scratch my head. "Have you run into them?"

"Briefly, yes." She hands me back the binoculars. "Are they the ones you're looking for?"

"The male android was my friend. The female android isn't so much."

If A2 stays with me—if they're looking for her—they'll find me too.

What will I do then?

Well, I can help A2. If I tell them not to harm her, they won't, will they? Because it's a human's word over the commander's?

"If he's your friend, why are you stalking him?" A2 asks.

I flinch. "I'm not—not stalking. I'm just looking out for him."

A2 quirks an eyebrow.

"He doesn't . . . he doesn't remember me."

A2 scoffs. "Ah, memory wipe?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds like standard YoHRa business." She shrugs.

"Is that why you left?"

"No." She turns away. "I noticed you eating nuts, so." She points to the blanket, where she has left a pile of vegetables and nuts.

"Oh." I point at them. "That's perfect! Thanks. You didn't have to go get food for me."

"I had nothing else to." She stretches into the air and walks a little ways away. "Besides, I took out some machines along the way, so it was a good day."

Ah.

She is. She is programmed to take care of humans. What is that like, to have a will that is just in you? She will be partial to me, won't she?

"Great." And it is, because now I can use her.

She rolls an unresponsive Noggin with her foot. "What's with this thing, anyway?"

"I think he's faulty."

"Should I put him out of his misery?"

"No."

She glances at me, smirks, and shrugs again.

"So, are you gonna tag along with me?" I kick my feet on the sill.

"I'd like to know if there are more humans, too." She waves a hand. "So, why not?"

Can she hear my pulse drumming away? The way the blood thrashes in me?

We'll use each other, then. The word is on the tip of my tongue, to suggest it, to let her know I want to be level with her—"friends"—but the word leaves a bad taste and I can't bring myself to say it. I already had a friend, and now I carry his sword that describes exactly what we're apart of.

I peer down at the shapes below. Nines and 2B head into the camp.

A cruel oath to always be friends.

I'm going to get him back, somehow—shatter the chains of his command only to chain him to me, destroy the power 2B has over him, make it so freedom and entrapment is the same coin—and A2 is going to help me.

* * *

**AN:** Thank-you everyone for the love! I am glad I still have readers. I am planning to get back to a regular update schedule!

Also some of you mentioned A2 knowing about humans being extinct, but from what I remember, she finds that information out at the end of the game in the tower's library. She deserted because she found out Command sent her and her squad on a suicide mission with the intention to study their battle type and personalities. But correct me if I'm wrong!


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